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THE  VICAR   OF  W  A  KEF  I  ELD:  A   PLAY 

FOUNDED  ON  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH'S  NOVEL 


UNIFORM     WITH    THIS    VOLUME 

"  CRANFORD:  A  PLAY."  By  Marguerite  Mer- 
ington.  A  comedy  in  three  acts  made 
from  Mrs.  Gaskell's  famous  novel.  With  a 
cover  design  and  a  frontispiece  by  Edwin 
Wallick.  Cloth,  12mo,  $1.25. 

"  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE  :  A  PLAY."  By  Mrs. 
Steele  MacKaye.  A  comedy  in  four  acts, 
founded  on  Jane  Austen's  novel.  With 
frontispiece  in  color  by  Edwin  Wallick. 
Cloth,  12mo,  $1.25. 


"I  thought  thee  lost,  my  Olivia' 


THE  VICAR  OF 
WAKEFIELD:  A  PLAY 

FOUNDED  ON  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH'S  NOVEL 


BY 

MARGUERITE    MERINGTON 

Author  of  "Cranford:  A  Play,"  "Captain 
Lettarblair,"  etc. 


NEW  YORK 

DUFFIELD  &  COMPANY 
1909 


COPYRIGHT,  1909,  BY 
DUFFIELD  &  COMPANY 

Published,  October,  1909 


SPECIAL  COPYRIGHT  NOTICE. 

This  play  is  fully  protected  by  copyright,  all  requirements  of  the  law 
having  been  complied  with.  Performances  may  be  given  only  with  the  writ 
ten  permission  of  Duffield  &  Company,  agents  for  Miss  Marguerite  Merington, 
owner  of  the  acting  rights. 


PS 


PERSONS  OF  THE  PLAY 

THE    PEIMEOSE    FAMILY 

DE.  PEIMEOSE  (THE  VICAR  OP  WAKEFIELD)— "  Unites 
in  himself  the  three  greatest  characters  upon  earth: 
A  priest,  a  husbandman,  and  the  father  of  a  family." 

MES.  PEIMEOSE — "  A  good-natured,  notable  woman — 
An  excellent  contriver  in  housekeeping" 

GEOEGE — "  No  one  was  ever  born  with  a  better  Tcnack  of 
hoping." 

OLIVIA — "Now  about  eighteen,  had  that  luxuriancy  of 
beauty,  open,  sprightly,  and  commanding." 

SOPHIA — "  Features  not  so  striking  at  first  .  .  .  but 
soft,  modest,  and  alluring" 

MOSES — ''Quite  happy  at  being  permitted  to  dispute." 
DICK  AND  BILL— "M y  little  ones." 

THE  WILMOTS 

DE.  WILMOT— "A  dignitary  in  the  Church" 

AEABELLA — "Fortune  her  smallest  accomplishment 
.  .  .  completely  pretty.  Her  youth,  health  and 
innocence  heightened  by  such  a  happy  sensibility." 


. 
THEATRE     &ZS 


vi  PERSONS    OF    THE    PLAY 


THE    FLAMBOEOTJGHS 

ME.  FLAMBOEOUGH— (A  PROSPEROUS  FARMER). 
"  Our  honest  neighbour"  and  his  six  children,  begin 
ning  with  his  "  two  daughters,  flaunting  with  red 
top-knots" 

FAEMEE  WILLIAMS — A  young  man  "in  easy  circum 
stance,  prudent  and  sincere." 

SIE  WILLIAM  THOENHILL— (MR.  BURCHELL). 
"  About  thirty.  His  person  was  well-formed,  his  face 
marked  with  lines  of  thinking — short  and  dry  in 
his  address — seemed  not  to  understand  ceremony,  or 
to  despise  it.  One  of  the  most  generous  yet  whim 
sical  men  in  the  kingdom" 

SQUIEE  THOENHILL— "A  young  gentleman  of  gen 
teel  appearance — address  confident,  easy — desired  to 
know  little  more  of  the  world  than  its  pleasures." 

THE  Two  "  LADIES  OF  QUALITY  " — "  Women  of  the  town 
masquerading  as  Lady  Blarney  and  Miss  Carolina 
Wilhelmina  Amelia  Skeggs." 

EPHEAIM  JENKINSON— "A  knowing  man— with  a 
thorough  knowledge  of  human  nature  on  the  wrong 
side." 

THE  LANDLORD  AND  LANDLADY  OF  THE  SIGN  OF  THE 

HARROW — "  A  wayside  public  house." 
A  servant  in  the  Thornhill  liveries. 


ACT   I 

Living-room  in  the  Vicar's  cottage,  in  some  rural  part  of 
England.    Early  autumn. 

ACT  II 

The  same  scene,  some  weeks  later. 

ACT  III 

The  same  scene,  the  day  after. 

ACT  IV 

A  room  in  The  Sign  of  the  Harrow,  a  public  house  on  the 
road  to  London.    Some  weeks  later. 

ACT  V 

SCENE  I 
A  prison  cell. 

SCENE    II 

Outside  the  Vicar's  cottage  at  Xmastide. 

Costumes,  setting,  music,  etc.,  are  of  the  period — 
the  time  of  Oliver  Goldsmith — between  1728  and  1744. 
The  play  is  divided  into  five  Acts  because  Goldsmith  so 
arranged  his  own  comedies.  For  simplicity's  sake,  how 
ever,  the  old-fashioned  mode  of  subdividing  Acts  into 
scenes  with  change  of  environment  has  been  followed  only 
at  the  close. 


PROLOGUE 

SPOKEN  BY  THE  GHOST  OF  DR.  JOHNSON. 

The  Ghost  rises  from  the  stage  in  a  gray  mist.  The  mist 
dispels,  and  the  Ghost  addresses  the  audience  with  occa 
sional  references  to  imaginary  presences  near  him. 

Who  stands  before  you,  do  ye  question  ?    What ! 
Two  centuries,  and  then  are  we  forgot? 
I  am  that  Johnson  who  did  once  compile 
A  Dictionary — Is  it  out  of  style? 

0  playgoers,  ye  living,  modern  host, 

Bear  with  a  word  from  an  old-fashioned  ghost  1 

1  come  to  speak  for  Goldsmith,  Oliver, 

Dear  Noll— Eh!     What's  that?     I  deny  it,  sir! 

('Tis  Mr.  Garrick,  in  the  distance  dim,) 

Too  great,  0  Davy,  to  belittle  him ! 

But,  you,  Sir  Joshua,  with  wondrous  art 

Who  painted  him,  you  knew  dear  Goldie's  heart, 

His  kindly  spirit,  innocent  of  guile, 

His  Irish  Irishness,  his  winning  smile! 

{Pauses  to  take  snufi.~\ 

Foibles,  in  sooth,  had  he :  he  never  learned 
To  husband  guineas  he  so  hardly  earned, 


x  PROLOGUE 

Loved  gay  apparel  that  his  means  outran — 
Yet  ne'er  bloom-coloured  coat  clothed  better  man ! 
Ever  compassionate  to  want,  distress, 
His  lavish  hand  would  leave  him  penniless. 

Too  late,  alas !  for  him  his  attic  stair 
Tho'  fortune  climbed,  he  left  the  world  his  heir ! 
Vast  his  humaneness,  not  unkind  his  scorn, 
His  pen  touched  nothing  it  did  not  adorn. 
What !    Dead  two  centuries,  yet  makes  ye  laugh 
And  weep  to-day  ?    'Tis  his  best  epitaph ! 

THE  GHOST  SINKS  IN  A  GRAY  MIST. 


xi 

DESCRIPTION  OF  SCENE  FOR  ACTS  I,  II  AND  III,  ALSO  FOE 
ACT  V,  SCENE  2. 

"  Nothing  could  exceed  the  neatness  of  my  little  en 
closures,  the  elms  and  hedgerows  appearing  with  inex 
pressible  beauty.  My  house  consisted  of  but  one  storey, 
and  was  covered  with  thatch,  which  gave  it  an  air  of  great 
snugness.  The  walls  on  the  inside  were  nicely  white 
washed.  The  same  room  served  us  for  parlour  and  kitchen. 
It  was  kept  with  the  utmost  neatness,  the  dishes,  plates  and 
coppers  being  well  scoured,  and  disposed  in  bright  rows  on 
the  shelves." 

At  the  back  is  a  door,  opening  into  the  front  garden.  It 
has  a  knocker  on  the  outside.  At  the  back,  and  at  the  left 
are  windows  framed  with  vines,  and  having  curtains. 
There  are  plants  in  pots  upon  the  sills.  On  the  right 
(R  1)  is  an  opening  without  a  door,  leading  to  the  scullery. 
Also  on  the  right  (R  2)  is  a  door,  leading  to  the  bed 
rooms.  Elsewhere  are  a -fireplace,  with  mantelpiece,  china 
closet,  dresser,  screen,  settee,  table,  chairs,  cricket,  book 
shelf,  tall  clock,  and  all  other  necessary  furnishings.  On 
the  walls  are  silhouettes,  samplers,  pictures,  and  Mrs.  Prim 
rose's  epitaph,  framed,  also  a  looking-glass. 


ACT  I 


ACT  I 

Sounds  of  pipe  and  tabour. 

DISCOVERED:  The  VICAR  OF  WAKEFIELD  and  his  family, 
being  welcomed  by  MR.  FLAMBOROUGH,  FARMER  WIL 
LIAMS,  and  other  parishioners,  including  the  MISSES 
FLAMBOROUGH.  By  the  open  door,  rear,  stand  musi 
cians  with  pipe  and  tabour.  The  VICAR  wears  his  usual 
aspect  of  benevolence.  MRS.  PRIMROSE  is  divided  be 
tween  hospitality  and  disdain.  OLIVIA'S  expression  is 
slightly  condescending,  SOPHIA'S  rather  less  so.  MOSES 
is  interested,  GEORGE  aloof,  the  children  show  pleasure. 

VICAR. 

[ A  ddressing  the  welcoming  group.~\  From  my  heart, 
sir,  on  behalf  of  Mrs.  Primrose  and  our  children,  thank 
you! 

FLAMBOROUGH. 

Your  servant,  Doctor.  As  I  was  saying,  you  will  find  us 
a  simple  folk,  but  pious.  We  keep  up  the  Xmas  carol. 

VILLAGERS. 

Aye,  that  we  do ! 

FLAMBOROUGH. 

We  send  true-love-knots  on  Valentine  morning;  eh,  lads 
and  lasses? 

VILLAGERS. 
[With  laughter,  sheepish,  or  teasing. 1    Aye,  that  we  do! 


2  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

FLAMBOROUGII. 
We  eat  pancakes  on  Shrovetide;  eh,  neighbours? 

YlLLAGEHS. 

Aye,  farmer !    That  we  do ! 

FLAMBOEOUGH. 

We  show  our  wit  on  the  First  of  April!  eh,  boys  and 
girls  ? 

VILLAGERS. 
[With  guffaws.]    Aye,  sir;  that  we  do! 

FLAMBOROUGH. 

And  we  crack  nuts  religiously  on  Michaelmas  Eve!  eh, 
friends  ? 

VILLAGERS. 
Aye,  Mr.  Flamborough !    That  we  do ! 

FLAMBOROUGH. 

Come,  then!     Here's  a  hearty  welcome  to  the  Vicar  of 
Wakefield!     [Waving  hat.] 

VILLAGERS. 
Hear,  hear ! 

[Demonstration  with  hats,  sticks,  etc.  Flourish  of 
pipe  and  tabour,  the  VICAR  bows  thanks  with  emo 
tion,  his  family  with  courteous  acknowledgment. 
The  villagers,  led  ~by  FLAMBOROUGH,  go  to  the  music 
of  pipe  and  tabor.  The  PRIMROSE  family  alone  re 
main.] 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  3 

OLIVIA. 

[Mimicking .~\     Aye,  Mr.  Flamborough!     That  we  do! 
Oh,  what  rustics ! 

VICAR. 

My  child!     Most  kindly   souls!     And  Farmer  Flam- 
borough — a  most  worthy  man! 

DICK. 

Aye,  papa!     See  the  cakes  he  brought  us! 

BILL 

And  oranges! 

[DiCK  and  BILL  run  off,  following  villagers.'] 

MOSES. 

[Has  been  gazing  out  of  window.]     His  daughters  me- 
thought  well-favoured ! 

SOPHIA. 

[Taxing  MOSES.]     Oh,  Moses !    Those  blowsy,  bouncing 
pieces  with  cheeks  as  broad  and  red  as  pulpit  cushions! 

MRS.   PRIMROSE. 

And  from  these  yokels  my  sons  must  choose  their  wives, 
my  girls  their  husbands ! 

MOSES. 

Speaking  of  husbands,  mother,  did  you  note  how  that 
young  farmer  stared  at  sister  Livy? 

OLIVIA. 

Thanks,  brother !     No  country  booby  for  me !    When  I 
go  to  church 


4  THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD 

VlCAE. 

May  it  be  with  so  worthy  a  man !  Come,  children,  be 
not  censorious!  Bather  let  us  give  thanks  that 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Thanks !  When  I  think  of  our  elegant  mansion  at  Wake- 
field  !  And  here — parlour  and  kitchen  all  in  one ! 

VICAR. 

All  the  warmer  and  more  snug,  my  dear!  [Interrupts 
MRS.  PRIMRSOE,  who  is  about  to  protest.]  Come,  come ! 
Even  at  Wakefield  did  we  not  have  our  humiliations? 
Think  how  often  the  Squire  slept  through  my  best  ser 
mons;  how  his  wife  returned  your  obeisance  with  a  muti 
lated  curtsey !  In  spite  of  reverses  at  least  we  still  enjoy 
the  approbation  of  our  consciences,  and  one  another's  love ! 

MRS.   PRIMROSE. 

Nevertheless 

[DiCK  and  BILL  run  on,  rear,  exclaiming.'] 

DICK  AND  BILL. 

Oh,  papa !  Mamma !  See  the  fine  coach  coming  down 
the  road! 

[MRS.  PRIMROSE  and  daughters  run  to  window  and 
door  and  look  off.] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Alack!  Whenever  will  a  fine  coach  stop  at  our  door 
again  ? 


THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD  5 

OLIVIA  AND  SOPHIA. 

But  it  is — it  is  stopping  here ! 
[General  excitement.] 

MOSES. 

[Also  looking  off.]  Now,  by  Socrates,  they  are  the  Wil- 
mot  liveries ! 

[More  general  excitement.] 

GEOEGE. 

[For  the  first  time  interested,  starts  up.]  The  Wilmot 
liveries,  say  you? 

[Runs  to  window,  looks  off.] 

VICAR. 

[With  emotion]  Doubtless  my  old  friend  Mr.  Wilmot  is 
come  to  condole  with  me  on  my  misfortune !  How  like 
him! 

GEORGE. 

Also  the  lovely.  Arabella,  come  to  tell  me  that  in  spite 
of  our  reverses  she  is  true  to  me !  Oh,  rapture ! 

[There  is  a  general  bustle  of  preparation.  MOSES  has 
hardly  closed  the  front  door  before  there  is  a  loud 
double  knock  on  it.  He  is  about  to  open  it  again, 
but  is  warned  by  signs  from  his  mother  and  sisters  to 
delay  till  they  are  ready.  He  then  admits  DR. 
WILMOT  and  ARABELLA,  on  seeing  whom  the  PRIM 
ROSES,  with  the  exception  of  the  VICAR,  exclaim 
with  feigned  surprise.] 


6  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

[And  her  children.]     Mr.  Wilmot — of  all  people  in  the 
world !    And — I  declare — Miss  Arabella. 

VICAR. 

[Advances    with     outstretched    hand.]       Mr.    Wilmot 
'Id  friend — this  is  indeed  kind! 


DR.  WILMOT. 
[Apoplectic  with  wrath]     Kind,  sir !    Kind !    You  call 

it 

[Sputters,  unable  to  finish.] 

GEORGE. 
Oh,  Miss  Wilmot !    This  is  too  much ! 

ARABELLA. 

Oh,  Mr.  Primrose!     [With  blushing  rapture]     George! 
[George  is  about  to  embrace  her] 

DR.  WILMOT. 

Back,  sir !    How  dare  you,  Miss !     [Furiously  interpos 
ing,  with  stick.]     Back,  sir,  or  I'll — I'll 

VICAR. 
Dr.  Wilmot,  sir — this  choler !    Explain  yourself ! 

DR.  WILMOT. 

I  explain  myself,  Dr.  Primrose?     Gad,  sir;  it  is  to  you 
that  I  am  come  for  explanations ! 


THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD  7 

ARABELLA. 
Papa !     Pray,  calm  yourself ! 

[DR.  WILMOT,  soothed  by  ARABELLA,  sits,  a  chair 
being  placed  far  him  by  MOSES,  and  a  glass  of  wine 
being  offered  him  by  MRS.  PRIMROSE.  At  last  he 
finds  breath.'] 

DR.  WILMOT. 

Dr.  Primrose,  can  you  deny  that  for  months  you  and 
I  have  been  carrying  on  by  correspondence  a  controversy 
at  once  spirited  and  scholarly,  in  which  I  have  distinctly 
had  the  better  of  you! 

VICAR. 

[With  spirit.']  Pardon,  Dr.  Wilmot!  Spirited  and 
scholarly,  I  grant  you.  But  that  you  had  the  better  of  me  ? 
No,  sir !  I  deny  it ! 

[DR.  WILMOT  speechless  with  wrath.~\ 

ARABELLA. 
[Soothing  him.']     Papa!  I  beg 


MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
[Calming  the  VICAR.]     Charles,  my  love!     Consider! 

DR.  WILMOT. 
At  least,  sir,  you  will  admit  that  the  bone  of  our  erudite 

contention  was 

VICAR. 

Monogamy,  sir!  With  Whiston,  I  hold  it  unlawful  for 
a  priest  of  the  Church  of  England  to  take  to  himself  more 
than  one  wife ! 


8  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

DR.  WILMOT. 

[ Agreeing  J]     At  a  time,  sir !     Agreed !     One  at  a  time, 
but 

VlOAE. 

At  any  time,  sir !     Ever !     One  wife  till  death  do  part. 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Charles,  my  love,  I  entreat  you 


DR.  WILMOT. 
{Flourishing  stick.']     Hear  him!     Egad,  sir- 

ARABELLA. 
Dear,  dear  papa,  I  implore  you 


VIOAR. 

Moreover,  sir,  in  support  of  my  tenets  I  have  published 
tracts — tracts  which 

DR.  WILMOT. 
Which  nobody  reads !     Ha,  ha,  ha ! 

ARABELLA. 
Oh,  sir! 

VICAR. 
Furthermore,  I  have  already  composed  my  wife's  epitaph. 

DR.  WILMOT. 
[Staring.]     Your  wife's  epitaph! 


THE   VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  9 

VICAR. 

[Pointing  to  framed  epitaph.]  Setting  forth  that  I 
chose  her  as  she  chose  her  wedding  gown,  less  for  the  lustre 
of  its  surface  than  for  its  wearing  qualities. 

[MRS.  PRIMROSE,  who  had  looked  phased  at  mention 
of  epitaph,  coughs,  slightly  nettled.] 

VICAR. 

[Continuing]  Extolling  her  prudence,  thrift,  obedi 
ence  to  me,  and 

DR.  WILMOT. 
Aye,  aye,  sir!    But— which  wife? 

VICAR. 

[Horrified    at    the    question]     Which,    Dr.    Wilmot? 
Deborah,  the  only  wife  of  Charles  Primrose,  God  bless  her! 
[Pats  MRS.  PRIMROSE  on  shoulder] 

DR.  WILMOT. 
[Splutters  with  laughter]     Ridiculous! 

ARABELLA. 
Oh,  Papa!    Indeed,  Dr.  Primrose 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
[Nettled]     Not  at  all  ridiculous,  Dr.  Wilmot! 

VICAR. 

Eidiculous?    In  my  wife's  name,  Dr.  Wilmot,  I  de 
mand  an  apology. 


10  THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD 

DR.  WILMOT. 

No  offence,  Mrs.  Primrose!  I  withdraw  the  word! 
For  Gad,  sir ;  it  is  not  ridiculous !  It's  insulting !  Insult 
ing  to  me ! 

VlCAE. 

How,  sir!     Insulting? 

DR.  WILMOT. 

[Continuing.]  When,  as  everybody  knows,  I  have 
buried  three  beloved  wives ! 

VICAR. 
Scandalous,  sir! 

[The  PRIMROSES  try  to  soothe  VICAR.] 

DR.  WILMOT. 
In  succession,  mark  you! 

VICAR. 
Scandalous ! 

DR.  WILMOT. 
Eh,  sir?     Gad,  sir;  that  is  libellous! 


GEORGE. 

By  heaven,  Dr.  Wilmot,  were  you  a  younger  man- 
[The  PRIMROSES  restrain  GEORGE.] 


DR.  WILMOT. 
[Flourishing  stick.'}     Puppy!     Presumptuous  puppy! 


THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD  11 

ARABELLA. 

[With  a  shriek.]     Papa!     George! — Oh,  heavens! 
[Appears  to  swoon.     GEORGE  catches  her.] 

THE  PRIMROSES. 

Miss  Wilmot  has  fainted.  Water !  Air !  Cut  her  stays 
open !  Burn  a  feather  under  her  nose ! 

GEORGE. 
Oh,  my  Arabella !     Tell  me — tell  me  you  are  not  dead ! 

DR.  WILMOT. 

Puppy!  Let  go  of  her!  Here,  Miss!  How  dare  you 
faint  on  the  monogamous  breast  of  a  Primrose !  Throw 
a  bucket  of  water  over  her!  I  warrant  she'll  come  to, 
fast  enow! 

ARABELLA. 

[Opening  eyes.]  Where  am  I? — Oh,  papa!  Oh, 
George ! 

DR.  WILMOT. 

Silence,  Miss.  I  forbid  you  to  George  that  puppy! 
But,  come.  As  to  our  controversy,  I  trust,  Dr.  Primrose, 
you  will  admit  that  you  agreed  to  a  public  threshing  out 
of  the  matter? 

VICAR. 
Agreed  to  it,  Dr.  Wilmot  ?     It  was  I  who  suggested  it ! 

DR.  WILMOT. 

[Testily.]     Well,  well,  be  that  as  it  may!     The  loser 
was  to  pay  a  forfeit — now,  what  was  it? 
[GEORGE  looks  conscious.] 


12  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

ARABELLA. 

Lud,  sir !     Don't  you  recall  ? 
[Whispers  to  DR.  WILMOT.] 

GEORGE. 

Dr.  Wilmot — my  attachment  for  your  daughter — which 
I  fondly  hope  is  not  without  return 

ARABELLA. 
[Bashfully.']     Oh,  George! 

DR.  WILMOT. 

To  be  sure ! — Your  son ;  my  daughter — Dr.  Primrose, 
you  admit  that  the  loser  was  to  double  the  sum  of  one 
thousand  pounds  that  each  of  us  had  agreed  to  settle  on 
the  young  couple ! 

VICAR. 
Admit  it,  sir?    'Twas  I  propounded  it! 

DR.  WILMOT. 

Then,  sir,  the  less  excuse  for  your  taking  refuge  in 
flight ! 

VICAR. 
[Amazed  and  angry. ~\    Flight,  Dr.  Wilmot !    Surely 

DR.  WILMOT. 

No  evasion,  Dr.  Primrose !  On  my  way  to  keep  the  ap 
pointment,  by  the  merest  accident  I  learn  that  you  and 
your  family,  root,  stem,  and  branch,  have  left  Wakefield, 
and  are  in  hiding  here ! 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  13 

VICAR. 
In  hiding !    Keally,  Dr.  Wilmot 


MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Charles,  love !     Forbear 

THE  OTHER  PRIMROSES. 
[At  the  same  time.']     Papa!     Pray 


ARABELLA. 
[At  the  same  time.']     Dear  Papa!     Indeed- 


DR.  WILMOT. 

At  least,  Dr.  Primrose,  you  will  not  deny  that  you  are 
here? 

VICAR. 

The  fact  is  self-evident,  sir.  As  for  flight — surely,  Dr. 
Wilmot,  you  received  my  letter? 

GEORGE. 

[To  ARABELLA.]  And  you,  madam,  did  you  not  receive 
the  outpourings  of  my  broken — [Hand  on  heart.'] 

[DR.  WILMOT  and  ARABELLA  show  puzzled  surprise.} 

VICAR. 

Doubtless  you  set  out  ere  it  reached  you.  I  wrote,  in 
forming  you  that  the  merchant  in  town  in  whose  hands 
I  had  lodged  my  entire  fortune,  has  gone  off  to  avoid  a 
suit  in  bankruptcy — has  not  a  shilling  to  the  pound !  At 
Wakefield  I  had  always  turned  over  my  emoluments  to  the 
poor!  Accordingly,  to  save  my  family  from  beggary,  I 


14  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

have  accepted  this  small  rural  cure,  at  sixteen  pounds  a 
year! 

[DR.  WILMOT  and  ARABELLA  have  punctuated  this 
sentence  with  exclamations  of  surprise  and  sym 
pathy.] 

DR.  WILMOT. 
[Wiping  brow.']     Sixteen  pounds  a  year! 

MOSES. 
Which  we  shall  increase  by  husbandry! 

GEORGE. 

I,  too,  sir,  set  out  this  very  night  for  London,  there  to 
make  my  fortune! 

DR.  WILMOT. 
Tut,  tut !     [Blows  nose  to  conceal  emotion.]     Charles 

Primrose,  you  are  in  misfortune 

[Rises,  opens  arms.] 

VICAR. 

Wilmot!  [They  embrace.]  This  tenderness  overcomes 
me!  [Wipes  eyes.] 

[Everyone  shows  emotion."] 

DR.  WILMOT. 

Your  emotion  does  you  credit,  sir!  Gad,  sir,  it  does 
us  all  credit!  But  why  the  deuce  are  you  young  people 
hanging  back!  Egad,  Master  George,  when  I  was  your 

age 

GEORGE. 
Sir,  while  the  lovely  person  of  Miss  Wilmot  was  ever 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  15 

sole  object  of  my  desire,  yet  considering  the  disparity  in 
our  present  fortunes 

DR.  WILMOT. 

La,  La,  La,  boy !  Arabella  has  enough  for  both !  Take 
her,  George !  Go  to  him,  daughter ! — Nay,  lad ;  never  be 
dashed  by  her  coyness !  The  more  they  hang  back 

GEORGE. 
Arabella ! 

ARABELLA. 
Oh,  Papa!— Oh,  George! 

[GEORGE  and  ARABELLA  embrace.'] 

DR.  WILMOT. 
That's  right!     Buss  her!     Gad,  when  I  was  a  young 

fellow 

[MRO.  PRIMROSE  has  poured  out  wine.] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

A  glass  of  my  gooseberry  wine,  Dr.  Wilmot,  to  toast  the 
young  people ! 

DR.  WILMOT. 

Your  servant,  Mrs.  Primrose.     But,  first,  Charles  Prim 
rose,  most  honourable  of  men ! 
{Raising  glass."] 

VICAR. 
Wilmot!     The  perfect  friend! 

DR.  WILMOT. 
Amen! 

[They  drinJc.~] 


16  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

THE  OTHERS. 
Hear,  hear! 

VICAR. 

Friendship  that  withstands  adversity ! 
[Toasting.'] 

DR.  WILMOT. 
Friendship  that  nothing  can  change !     Nothing ! 

VlCAE. 
Amen! 

[They  drink.] 

THE  OTHERS. 
How  touching! 

[MRS.  PRIMROSE  replenishes  glasses.'] 

DR.  WILMOT. 
Here's  to  matrimony! 

THE  OTHERS. 
Hear,  hear! 

[All  drink  the  toast.'] 

VICAR. 
[Before  drinking  it.]     Aye.     Monogamy!     One  wife! 

DR.  WILMOT. 
At  a  time! 

VICAB. 
Kver! 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  17 

DR.  WILMOT. 

[Pausing  in  the  act  of  drinking.']  What,  sir !  Have  I 
been  deceived  in  you! 

VICAR. 
Deceived,  sir?     Explain  yourself! 

DR.  WILMOT. 

You  mean  to  say  that  you  retain  your  absurd  views  after 
the  chastisement  an  all-wise  Providence  has  inflicted  on 
you,  reducing  you  from  affluence  to  beggary ! 

VICAR. 
Not  beggary,  sir.     Sixteen  pounds  a  year ! 

MOSES. 
To  be  increased  by  husbandry! 

VICAR. 

And  in  any  case,  sir,  I  am  not  a  weathercock  to  be 
turned  hither  and  thither  by  the  winds  of  fortune !  Once 
a  monogamist,  always  a  monogamist,  on  principle,  sir ! 

DR.  WILMOT. 
Principle!     On  sixteen  pounds  a  year! 

MOSES. 

Increased  by 

DR.  WILMOT. 

Flying  in  the  face  of  Providence !  Charles  Primrose,  I 
renounce  you!  I  shake  the  dust  of  your  dwelling  from 
my  feet ! 


18  THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
[Nettled.]    Dust,  Dr.  Wilmot!    On  my  floors! 

DR.  WILMOT. 

[Calling  from  the  window.]     What,  ho,  without!     My 
horses ! 

ARABELLA. 

[Who  has  been  sitting  with  GEORGE'S  arm  about  her.] 
Oh,  Papa!     How  cruel! 

DR.  WILMOT. 

[Seizing  ARABELLA'S  arm.]    How  dare  you,  Miss !     Let 
go,  sir,  or  by  the  living  Jingo,  I'll 

ARABELLA. 
[Weeping.]     Oh,  sir!     Would  you  break  my  heart? 

GEORGE. 

My  adored  Arabella,  these  tears ! — Oh,  sir,  I  implore 
you! — Mother,  plead  for  me! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Oh,  Dr.  Wilmot,  sir,  do  not  sacrifice  these  two  young 
lives !     Be  a  monogamist,  I  beg  you — just  this  once ! 

THE  OTHERS. 
[Pleading.]     Aye,  sir!     Pray  do! 

DR.  WILMOT. 

Never !     What,   ho,   there,   I   say !     Deuce   take   those 
fellows ! 

[Calling  at  door,  rear.] 


THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD  19 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Charles,  love,  let  not  your  pride  force  our  eldest  son  to 
go  through  life  with  blighted  prospects,  broken  heart! 
Just  for  this  occasion  I  implore  you,  cease  being  a  monog 
amist  ! 

THE  OTHERS. 
Aye,  sir!     Pray,  pray 

VlCAE. 

Alas!     My  principles — my  conscience 

DR.  WILMOT. 

Come,  Miss! — Principles,  conscience,  quotha,  on  six 
teen  pounds  a  year! 

VICAR. 
Dr.  Wilmot;  let  us  not  part  in  anger! 

DR.  WILMOT. 

Anger,  sir!  When  I  reflect — [Unable  to  finish.  Then 
in  a  burst.]  I'm  going  straight  home  to  marry  my  fourth 
wife ! 

[Angry  exit,  dragging  ARABELLA.] 

[General  exclamation.     The  VICAR  is  shocked.'] 

GEORGE. 
[Slaps  brow.]     Alas !      Life  is  over  for  me  now ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
My  poor  lad!     However 

VlCAE 

My  dear  son!     If  only 


20  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

OLIVIA. 

[At  looking-glass.]  Myself  I  never  thought  her  the 
great  beauty  she's  reputed! 

SOPHIA. 
And,  truly,  brother,  she  lacks  strength  of  character,  or 

else 

MOSES. 
Take  comfort,  George!     As  one  of  the  ancients  says 

concerning  love 

GEORGE. 

The  ancients !  Love !  As  for  character,  beauty,  to  me 
she  is — the  one — the  most — the  only — [Waves  away  the 
others  who  seek  to  console  him.'}  Suffer  me  to  weep 
alone ! 

[Exit  E.  2.    Murmur  of  sympathy  from  all.'] 

VICAR. 

[Sadly.]  Poor  lad !  Yet  conscience — principle — monog 
amy 

[Sits,  reads;  the  others  busy  themselves  about  house 
hold  tasks.  Olivia  sits  in  window-seat,  softly  play 
ing  and  singing,  with  guitar.  A  hunter's  horn  is 
heard.] 

DICK  AND  BILL. 
Oh,  see  the  hunters  ride  by ! 

[Run  off,  rear,  the  others  look  off,  with  exception  of 
VICAR.] 

MOSES. 

That  one,  in  bravest  apparel — he  must  be  some  great 
gentleman ! 


THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD  21 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

As  I  live,  he's  looking  this  way.  [OLIVIA  thrums  on 
guitar,  as  if  to  say,  "  Is  that  so  strange  ?  "~\  And,  see ! 
He  looks  again!  [OLIVIA  thrums  again.']  I  vow,  he's 
taking  off  his  hat,  and  bowing !  [OLIVIA  thrums  again.'] 

VICAR. 

Come  from  the  window,  daughter.  I  would  not  have  a 
stranger  think  thee  forward! 

OLIVIA. 

Never  fear,  sir !  He  but  doffed  his  hat  in  passing,  and 
rode  on ! 

[Leaving  window  and  strolling  to  looking-glass.~\ 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
[Meditatively.']     None  the  less  he  looked,  and  looked 

again!     Who  knows  but 

[DiCK  and  BILL  run  on,  breathless.'] 

DICK  AND  BILL. 

Oh,  papa !     Mamma !     Sisters !     That  gentleman  in  the 
laced  coat,  he  is  the  Squire. 
[All  show  interest.'} 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Squire  Thornhill? 

VlCAB. 

Our  landlord! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
The  greatest  fortune  in  the  county! 


22  THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD 

VICAR. 

Dependent  wholly  on  the  pleasure  of  his  uncle,  Sir 
William  Thornhill. 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

All  the  same. — Hold  up  your  head,  my  pretty  Olivia ! 
Who  knows  but 

VICAR. 

The  young  Squire  is  not  likely  to  choose  a  bride  from 
among  the  lowly! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

I  protest,  Charles,  you  always  dash  me  when  I  am  in 
spirits!  I  tell  you  our  girls  are  as  handsome  as  you 
please,  if  they  do  take  after  me! — Why  should  the  Miss 
Wrinklers  marry  fortunes,  and  my  children  get  none? 

VICAR. 

Truly,  my  love,  I  see  no  reason,  neither;  nor  why  Mr. 
Simpkins  got  the  ten  thousand  pound  prize  in  the  lottery, 
and  we  sat  down  with  a  blank! — Besides,  Mr.  Thornhill 
has  a  reputation  for  unlicensed  gallantry ! 

OLIVIA. 

[With  sudden  interest,  leaving  the  glass.]  Oh,  Papa! 
How  interesting  that  makes  him !  Is  it  not  so,  sister  ? 

SOPHIA. 

[Waking  -from  a  revery  over  embroidery  frame.']  Eh, 
sister?  What? 

OLIVIA. 
[Leaning  over  SOPHIA,  mimicking  her.]     Eh,  sister! 


THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD  23 

What !     And  picking  her  colours  wrong !     I  dare  swear 
she's  dreaming  of  that  eccentric  Mr.  What's-His-Name ! 

SOPHIA. 
Mr.  Burchell!     [With  slight  asperity.'] 

OLIVIA. 

Aye,  Mr,  Burchell,  who  saved  her  from  a  ducking  when 
her  horse  stumbled  with  her  yesterday! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
[In  alarm.]    What,  Miss?    Setting  your  thoughts  upon 

that — that 

OLIVIA. 
[Mimicking  SOPHIA,  in  tender  accents.]     Mr.  Burchell ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
That  pauper !     That 

VICAR. 

My  dear !     A  most  cultivated  gentleman !     A  traveller ! 
A  philosopher! 

SOPHIA. 

[Gratefully  to  VICAR.]     Truly,  sir,  as  he  walked  beside 
me  I  found  his  conversation  as  improving  as  your  own ! 

VlCAB. 

Oh,  hardly  that,  my  child! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

[In  maternal  alarm,  seizing  SOPHIA'S  arm.]     Sophia, 
did  he  pay  you  marked  attention? 


24  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

SOPHIA. 
Indeed,  no,  Mamma.     He  only  saved  my  life ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Surely,  you  never  encouraged  him? 

SOPHIA. 
Indeed,  no,  Mamma !     I  only  thanked  him ! 

OLIVIA. 

[J 'easing."]     As  often  as  had  she  as  many  lives  as  a  cat 
and  he  had  saved  them  all ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

This  is  serious.     Charles,  you  must  get  rid  of  him, 
should  he  call ! 

VICAR. 
Fie,  Deborah!     Get  rid  of  a  guest,  a  gentleman  and 

o 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
A  nobody !     A  pauper !     And 


SOPHIA. 
[With  warmth.']     My  preserver! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

I  know  a  way.  Just  as  at  Wakefield  we  got  rid  of  our 
poor  relations:  by  lending  them  something,  a  saddle, 
a  pound,  an  umbrella. 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  25 

VICAR. 

By  that  token,  then,  are  we  already  rid  of  Mr.  Burchell, 
since  I  lent  him  money! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
You  lent  him  money ! — Charles,  what  imprudence ! 

VICAH. 

My  love,  could  I  do  otherwise?  I  found  he  had  parted 
with  his  last  guinea  to  the  beadle  to  save  an  old,  broken 
soldier  from  being  whipped  through  the  town  for  dog- 
stealing  ! 

SOPHIA. 
[With  tender  emotion.']     How  noble  of  him! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Hm,  well,  'twas  a  good  investment!  I  warrant  that's 
the  last  we  shall  see  of  Mr.  Nobody ! 

SOPHIA. 
[Rising,  with  warmth.']     I  dare  stake  my  life  upon  his 

honesty ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Highty-tighty,  Miss! 

DICK  AND  BILL. 

[At  window.]  Here's  someone  at  the  gate! — A  gentle 
man! 

[General  expectation.] 

OLIVIA. 
[With  delighted  expectancy.']     Oh,  the  Squire? 


26  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

DICK. 

Nay.  ?Tis  the  strange  kind  gentleman  that  saved  sister 
Sophy's  life 

BILL. 

And  gave  us  gingerbread ! 

SOPHIA. 
I  knew  it !    I  knew  he'd  come ! 

MOSES. 

As  Sophocles  remarks,  a  wise  man  gathers  what  to  ex 
pect  of  the  future  from  the  past !  Our  philosopher  comes 
to  borrow  more  money ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
My  bright  boy !    You  always  hit  the  nail  on  the  head ! 

SOPHIA. 
Mother !     Moses ! 

[Indignantly  protesting.'] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Charles;  children;  come  within!  Let  him  think  us 
from  home! 

VICAR. 
Woman !     I  will  not  suffer  a  guest  to  be  so  entreated ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Now,  my  love;  in  matters  of  conscience  I  bow  submis 
sively  to  your  slightest  word,  but  in  household  matters, 


THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD  27 

and — [Knock  at  door,  rear.']  Hush! — Come  quickly! 
[Gets  the  family  off,  at  the  right,  VICAR  and  SOPHIA  pro 
testing.'} 

[Knock  repeated.'] 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

[Outside.]  What,  ho,  within !  [Opens  door.  Enters.] 
What,  everyone  away!  Yet  methought  I  spied  the  little 
lads,  and  the  sweet  person  of  my  Sophia  at  the  window! 
Ah,  well! — [Sighs.]  I  must  not  intrude.  I  will  leave 
the  sum  the  good  old  man  loaned  me  so  confidingly. — 
Now,  how  much  was  it!  Gladly  as  I'd  enrich  him  I 
must  not  wound  his  pride! — Now,  where — [Gets  money 
from  purse,  considers  where  to  lay  it.]  Ha !  The  Bible ! 
— Under  this — [Lays  mon&y  under  Bible.  About  to  go 
reluctantly,  loolcs  about  the  room.]  0  abode  of  sweet 
simplicity,  frugality,  virtue,  and  content !  I  wonder  if 
here  a  man  may  find  a  bride  who  values  him  for  merit 
alone,  and  not  for  rank,  fortune,  vast  estates !  Who's  this  ? 
[EPHRAIM  JENKINSON,  disguised  as  a  venerable  old  man, 
passes  window,  without  seeing  Mr.  Burchell]  It  looks 
like — It  is  !  My  old  acquaintance,  Ephraim  Jenkinson ! 
I  wonder  what  roguery  he's  up  to  now !  I'll  prove  him ! 
[Hides  behind  piece  of  furniture.  JENKINSON  cau 
tiously  opens  door,  rear,  loolcs  in,  and  believing  the 
room  empty,  enters  stealthily] 

JENKINSON. 

[Talcing  his  bearings.]  This  parson,  I  hear,  is  an  easy 
mark !  'Tis  a  shame  to  trick  a  holy  man,  but  when  one's 
put  to  it — ! — What's  this  ?  [Takes  tract  from  table,  reads 
title.]  "  Tract  in  defence  of  Monogamy,  by  the  Eeverend 


28  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

Charles  Primrose,  Vicar  of  Wakefield." — Good !  A  knowl 
edge  of  his  foibles  will  serve  my  turn.  [Pocketing  tract, 
goes  up,  rear.]  I'll  study  this,  then  contrive  to  fall  in 
with  him  casually,  and — [ME.  BURCHELL  quietly  advances, 
blocks  his  way.  JENKINSON  starts.'] 

MR.  BURCHELL. 
Well,  Jenldnson! 

JENKINSON. 
[Recovering   self-possession.']     You  mistake,   good  sir. 

My  name  is 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

Ephraim  Jenkinson,  whom  many  a  time  I  have  com 
mitted  to  the  stocks  for  poaching,  and  other 

JENKINSON. 

[In  panic,  falling  on  knees.]  Body  and  soul  of  me ! 
It's  Sir  William  Thornhill !  Indeed,  sir,  I  thought  your 
Honour  was  still  in  foreign  parts,  or  I  never  should  have 
dared — ! 

MR.  BURCHELL. 
What  are  you  ahout  in  this  disguise? 

[With  his  stick  pulling  off  JENKINSON'S  wig,  and 
disarranging  his  false  whiskers.'] 

JENKINSON. 

[Looking  foolish,  pockets  his  wig  and  whiskers.]  Now, 
Sir  William,  on  my  conscience,  I 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

Come,  no  lies !  Are  you  aiding  my  scapegrace  nephew 
in  some  new  deviltry? 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  29 

JENKINSON. 

No,  indeed,  your  Worship!  I  haven't  seen  the  young 
Squire  this  long  time!  I  just  put  on  these  trappings  to 
have  a  bit  of  fun  with  a  friend  at  the  fair! 

MR.  BUKCHELL. 
What  brings  you  to  this  house? 

JENKINSON. 

On  my  life,  Sir  William,  I  only  stopped  in  to  beg  a 
drink  of  water! — [Rises.']  And,  if  your  Worship  won't 
hang  me  for  the  question,  what  is  your  Honour  about  in 
this  disguise? 

MR.    BURCHELL. 

[Laughs  in  spite  of  himself.']  Ha,  ha!  Well  turned, 
e'en  if  thou  art  a  knave !  It  is  my  whim  to  travel,  to  know 
my  fellowmen — above  all,  mine  own  tenants,  in  the  garb  of 
indigence ! 

JENKINSON. 

I  stake  my  life  that  young  Mr.  Thornhill  has  no  suspi 
cion  of  your  Honour's  presence  in  the  neighbourhood! 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

Neither  my  nephew,  nor  any  one  else  dependent  on  me, 
need  fear  anything  from  my  observation,  so  that  his  con 
science  be  clear!  Mark  that,  Jenkinson! — But,  if  I  hear 
of  any  roguery  I  clap  you  into  the  lock-up,  sure  as  my 

name  is 

[Shaking  stick.'] 

JENKINSON. 

On  my  life,  Sir  William,  I'll  die  sooner  than  put  it  into 
your  Honour's  power  to  hang  me !  [He  goes  out  hurriedly.] 


30  THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD 

[ME.  BURCHELL  takes  up  hat  from  table  where  lie  laid 
it  on  entering,  preparing  to  depart.  Enter  R.  2 
DICK  and  BILL,  with  air  of  great  mystery,  closing 
door  behind  them  softly,  tiptoeing  toward  MR.  BUR 
CHELL,  fingers  on  lips.  MR.  BURCHELL  sees  them.'] 

MR.  BURCHELL. 
How  now,  my  little  men — Dick,  Bill ! 

DICK  AND  BILL. 
{One  on  each  side  of  MR.  BURCHELL.]     Hush ! 

DICK. 

They're  all  in  there,  keeping  mum!     [Pointing  E.  2.] 
[MR.  BURCHILL  looks  puzzled.] 

BILL. 

They  want  you  to  think  us  away  from  home! 

MR.  BURCHELL. 
Eh  ?    How's  that !     Nay,  nay !     You  must  not  tell ! 

DICK. 

Mother  says  you're  a 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

[Hand    over    DICK'S    mouth.']     Tush!     Never    repeat 
things  that  people  say  of  people ! 

BILL. 

Father  and  sister  Sophia  wanted  to  see  you !     They  say 
you're 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  31 

MR.   BURCHELL. 

Eh?    She  cares!     She  says — What  says  she   of  me? 
Nay,  nay !     I  must  not  ask !     [Hand  over  BILL'S  mouth.'] 
Feel  in  my  pockets  for  the  fairings  I  have  brought  you ! 
[DiCK  and  BILL  find  each  a  cake  of  gingerbread  and 
a  whistle  in  MR.  BURCHELL'S  pockets.    They  ex 
claim  with  pleasure.'] 

DICK  AND  BILL 
Oh,  a  cake  of  gingerbread,  and  a  whistle ! 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

Yes,  you  must  eat  the  whistle  and  blow  the  ginger 
bread  ! 

[DiCK  and  BILL  loolc  at  him  enquiringly,  then  laugh.~] 

BILL. 

Is  it  because  you  say  such  funny  things  that  mother  calls 
you  a  pauper? 

DICK. 

[Hastily  correcting.']  Nay,  Bill.  'Tis  for  that  father 
calls  him  a  philosopher. 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

Now  return  to  your  parents.  Take  your  good  mother 
this  weasel  skin  purse  for  luck,  with  my  service.  And  to 
your  sisters  each  a  set  of  ribands,  and  a  box  for  wafers. — 
This  for  Miss  Olivia,  and  [giving  DICK  and  BILL  these 
articles']  this  for  Miss  Sophia! 

DICK. 

Oh!     Sister  Sophy's  box  is  the  larger! 


32  THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD 

BILL. 

And  her  ribands  are  the  prettier! 
[TJi&y  go  off  at  the  right.] 

MR.  BUECHELL. 

[Alone,  laughs.]     Ha,  ha!     So  even  here  may  be  found 
ambition,  pride  of  heart! 

[Voices.  Enter  E.  2.  the  family.  MR.  BURCHELL 
bows,  greets  them  cordially.  SOPHIA  and  the  VICAR 
alone  show  cordiality  in  returning  the  greeting.'] 

VICAR. 

[Shaking  hands  with  MR.  BURCHELL.]     Welcome,  Mr. 
Burchell. 

MR.  BURCHELL. 
Your  servant,  Dr.  Primrose,  Mrs.  Primrose.     I  called 

to — to [Slightly  embarrassed,  remembering  that  the 

money  is  hidden  under  Bible.  Addresses  SOPHIA.]  I 
trust,  madam,  you  suffered  no  inconvenience  from  your 
fall,  yesterday? 

SOPHIA. 
None,  sir,  thanks  to  your  heroic  act  in  saving  my  life. 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
The  pond  was  scarce  ankle  deep! 

MR.  BURCHELL. 
I  trust,  madam,  3*ou  caught  no  cold  from  the  water? 

SOPHIA. 
None,  indeed,  sir,  thanks  to 


THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD  33 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Thanks  to  a  hardy  constitution.  You  will  excuse  us,  sir. 
My  eldest  son  is  about  to  set  out  for  London,  and  we 
would  see  him  on  his  road! 

MR.  BURCHELL. 
Aha!    So,  young  sir,  you  go  to  town? 

GEORGE. 
There  to  make  my  fortune,  sir! 

VICAR. 

[To  MR.  BURCHELL.]  You  know  the  world,  sir.  Per 
haps  you  can  give  the  lad  some  counsel  about  making  his 
fortune  ? 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Have  the  gentleman's  counsels  made  his  own  fortunes? 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

Well,  no,  madam!  I  can't  say  they  have  ever  put  one 
penny  in  my  purse !  Eather  the  contrary ! 

SOPHIA. 
Poor,  poor  gentleman! 

MR.  BURCHELL. 
However,  if  any  good  word  of  mine  can  aid  your  son 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

[Interrupting,  with  hauteur.']  I  thank  you,  sir,  but  our 
son  lacks  not  friends !  A  kinsman  of  ours  promises  him 


34  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

an  introduction  to  Sir  William  Thornhill,  when  that  noble 
man  shall  have  returned  from  foreign  parts! 

GEORGE. 

[Taking  hat,  staff,  wallet,  etc.]  Meanwhile  unencum 
bered  by  possessions,  and  fortified  by  hope,  I  feel  that  many 
doors  are  open  to  me — in  the  study  and  practice  of  law, 
medicine — as  professor  of  languages,  living  or  dead — as 
musician,  actor,  poet. — And  now,  father,  your  blessing; 
mother,  your  embrace — and  on  to  London,  in  the  name 
of  the  beautiful  Miss  Wilmot ! 

[Grand  exit,  rear,  waving  hat,  followed  by  the  family 
shouting  "  Good-bye!    Good  luck!"  etc.] 

SOPHIA. 

[Hurriedly  steals  back  to  MR.  BDRCHELL.]  Sir,  do  not 
heed  my  mother's  sharp  tongue.  Her  heart  is  ever  kind ! 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

[Takes  her  hand,  tenderly]  Sophia — think  you,  you 
could  care  for  a — for  a  philosopher  who  carries  all  his 
worldly  goods  in  his  philosophy  ?  But,  no !  On  so  short 
an  acquaintance  I  should  not  venture — and  yet 

SOPHIA. 
I  might — I  might  endure  the  philosopher — if — if 

MR.  BURCHILL. 
If  what,  my  angel? 

SOPHIA. 
If  I  esteemed  the  man! 


THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD  35 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

[Kissing  her  hand.]     Adorable  candour!     Sophia 

[SOPHIA  snatches  hand  away,  and  runs  dff,  rear.]  I  have 
twenty  minds  to  proclaim  my  true  name  and  rank  upon 
the  spot.  And  yet — to  be  preferred  for  merit  alone  is  so 
sweet !  [SQUIRE  THORNHILL  appears  at  window,,  looks  in, 
but  does  not  see  MR.  BURCHELL.  Sits  on  window-sill,  picks 
up  OLIVIA'S  guitar,  thrums,  humming  song.]  What! — 
My  scapegrace  nephew  Ned ! — I'll  off,  before  he  recognises 
me! 

[Hurried  exit,  rear.  SQUIRE  sings.  Family  return, 
rear,  talking;  VICAR  and  MRS.  PRIMROSE  wiping 
their  eyes,  with  tearful  tenderness.  OLIVIA  and 
SOPHIA  are  together.  SQUIRE  THORNHILL  thrums 
and  hums  louder.] 

OLIVIA. 

Hark!  What,  does  he  still  linger,  after  the  rebuff 
mother  gave  him ! — Your  admirer  may  be  a  man  of  parts, 
my  dear,  but  I  can't  compliment  you  on  his  musical  at 
tainments.  He  has  less  voice  than  a  crow ! 

SQUIRE. 

[Leaps  in  at  window;  advances  to  salute  MRS.  PRIM 
ROSE.]  Your  servant,  Mrs.  Primrose! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
And  who  may  you  be,  my  pert  young  sprig  ? 

SQUIRB. 
Permit  me  to  salute  you! 

[About  to  kiss  her.    She  shrieks,  boxes  his  ears.] 


36  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Varlet !    Charles,  chastise  him  as  he  deserves ! 

[All   the  others  recognise   the   SQUIRE,  and  speak, 
OLIVIA  foremost.] 

OLIVIA. 

[And  otJiersJ]   Mamma !  Mamma !  It  is  our  landlord ! — 
The  Squire— Mr.  Thornhill ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

[Curtseying,  mortified  and  apologetic.']     Oh,  sir !     Had 
I  hut  guessed 

SQUIRE. 

[Good-humouredly,  rubbing  his  cheek.']      Perhaps  the 
young  ladies  will  be  kinder! 
[Makes  to  salute  OLIVIA.] 

VICAH. 
[Gently,  interposing.']     Sir,  I  beg! 

SQUIRE. 
Come,  come !    'Tis  a  town  fashion ! 

[ViCAR  still  refuses  to  allow  it,  ~by  gesture.'} 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Why  not,  Charles?    'Tis  a  town  fashion! 

VICAR. 
Sir,  my  daughters  are  but  country  girls! 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  37 

SQUIRE. 

Clearly!  For,  strike  me  blind  if  the  town  ever  grew 
such  roses ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

[Delighted.']  Oh,  sir !  Handsome  is  as  handsome  does. 
— And,  yet,  though  I  do  say  it. — Hold  up  your  head,  my 
pretty  Olivia! 

VlCAB. 

Also,  they  are  good  girls,  sir! 

SQUIRE. 

I'll  stake  my  life  on  that — if  virtue  be  shewn  by  com 
plexion,  eyes! — But,  come,  Mistress  Amaryllis,  Phyllis, 
Chloe — whatever  is  thy  name? 

VlCAE. 

I  fain  would  have  christened  her  Grisel,  sir — after  the 
ballad  of  Patient  Griselda,  but  her  mother  insisted  on 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Olivia ! 

SQUIRE. 

Come,  Mistress  Olivia — -I'll  swear  to  't  you  have  a  pretty 
finger  for  the  guitar  and  can  warble  like  a  nightingale ! 
[Holds  out  guitar  to  OLIVIA.] 

OLIVIA. 

[Blushing,  bashful,  and  delighted.']  Indeed,  sir,  I  should 
not  venture  before  a  cognoscento  like  yourself.  But  won't 
you  favour  us?  I  heard  you.  accompanying  yourself  to 


38  THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD 

perfection  as  we  entered — and  indeed  my  music-master'f 
tones  were  not  half  so  loud  or  melodious ! 
[SOPHIA  coughs.] 

SQUIRE. 
Nay,  I  insist!     Some  favourite  song  by  Mr.  Dryden 

MBS.  PRIMROSE. 

Do,  my  love,  oblige  the  Squire  with  that  sweet  little 
melancholy  air  your  dear  papa  is  so  fond  of — "  Wher 
lovely  woman  stoops  to  folly  " — 

OLIVIA. 

[Takes  guitar,  sings.'] 

"When  lovely  woman  stoops  to  folly, 

And  finds  too  late  that  men  betray, 

What  charm  can  soothe  her  melancholy; 

What  art  can  wash  her  guilt  away? 

"  The  only  art  her  guilt  to  cover, 

To  hide  her  shame  from  every  eye, 
To  give  repentance  to  her  lover, 
And  wring  his  bosom — is  to  die ! " 

SQUIRE. 

[Applauds  ostentatiously.']  Curse  me  if  I  ever  was  mor( 
agreeably  entertained  !  But  I  must  be  off !  Some  day 
sweet  Olivia,  we'll  mingle  our  lips — I  mean,  our  tones,  in  i 
duetto ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

You'll  taste  my  gooseberry  wine,  Squire? — Hand  it  tc 
the  Squire,  Livy,  love! — 'Twas  she  who  made  it,  sir! 
[Pouring  wine.~\ 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  39 

VICAR. 

Made  from  a  recipe  of  Mrs.  Primrose's  own,  sir!  She 
is  a  notable  housewife ! 

SQUIRE. 
Your  servant,  Dr. — Mrs.  Primrose,  and 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
'Twas  Olivia  who  gathered  the  gooseberries,  Squire. 

SQUIRE. 

[Seizes  OLIVIA'S  hand.]  Here's  to  the  fingers  that 
gathered  the  gooseberries ! 

[MOSES,  DICK  and  BILL  thrust  their  hands  forward.] 

MOSES. 
Then  must  you  drink  to  mine 

DICE. 

And  mine 

BILL. 
And  mine! 

[SQUIRE  laughs,  rises,  setting  down  his  glass.] 

SQUIRE. 
I  shall  see  thee  again  soon !     [To  OLIVIA.] 

VICAR. 
I  shall  see  you,  sir,  on  Sunday,  I  trust,  at  church ! 

SQUIRE. 

True!  I  was  forgetting  church — I  mean,  I  had  for 
gotten  Sunday! — After  service  I  will  show  the  young 
ladies  the  beauties  of  the  Hall! 


40  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

VlCAB. 

Sir,  we  will  defer  that  pleasure  till  the  Hall  shall  have 
a  mistress ! 

SQUIRE. 

A  plague  on  being  a  bachelor !  But  I'll  not  be  denied ! 
I  have  two  ladies  visiting  me — cousins.  Their  names :  let's 
see — Lady  Blarney,  and  Miss  Carolina  Wilhelmina  Amelia 
Skeggs !  [Sensation  produced  ~by  these  names.]  So,  now, 
for  the  present  farewell ! 
[Takes  OLIVIA'S  hand.] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

She's  scarce  nineteen,  sir,  and  I  declare  she's  almost  as 
tall  as  yourself!     Back  to  back,  and  I'll  measure! 

SQUIRE. 
I  never  turn  my  back  on  so  fair  a  lady ! 

[About  to  kiss  OLIVIA,  she  breaks  from  him.'] 

OLIVIA. 
Oh,  lud !     Mr.  Thornhill ! 

[SQUIRE  laughs  and  makes  dashing  exit,  rear.] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

What  a  genteel  person !    Such  easy  manners !    And  such 
a  flow  of  conversation ! 

SOPHIA. 

Aye,  the  more  trifling  the  subject  the  more  he  has  to  say 
on  it! 

DICK. 
I  like  Mr.  Burchell  better ! 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  41 

BILL. 
So  do  I ! 

SOPHIA. 
Darlings ! 

[An  arm  about  each.] 

OLIVIA. 

For  my  part  I  think  him  an  impudent  familiar  fel 
low [SQUIRE  puts  head  in  at  window,  unseen  by  fam 
ily.']  and  quite  shocking  on  his  guitar ! 
[SQUIEE  laughs,  disappears.] 

VICAR. 

I  must  prepare  a  sermon — on  the  pomps  and  van 
ities 

[Sits  down,  writes.] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
[Meditatively.']     My  Lady  Blarney,  and  Miss 

OLIVIA,  SOPHIA,  DICK  AND  BILL. 
Carolina  Wilhelmina  Amelia  Skeggs! 

MOSES. 
Hardly  a  classical  name,  but  high-sounding! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Ladies  of  quality!     Pll  make  you  girls  a  complexion 
wash! 

[Getting  materials  and  saucepan  from  cupboard.] 


42  THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD 

VlCAE. 

[Overhearing,  sternly  J\    Woman !    I  forbid  it ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

[Guiltily,  dropping  saucepan  on  table.'}  La,  Charles,  my 
love! 

VICAB. 

How  often  have  I  told  you  such  things  destroy  more 
than  they  mend. 

[Resumes  work.     MRS.  PRIMROSE  sadly  puts  away 
materials,  etc.'] 

OLIVIA. 

[At  glass,  discontentedly.']  What's  the  good  of  a  com 
plexion  when  one  has  to  trudge  two  miles  through  the 
sun? 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
My  poor  beauty!    But  you  can  ride  the  colt! 

OLIVIA. 

And  meet  my  Lady  Blarney  on  a  colt  minus  a  tail? 
Not  I! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
There's  Blackberry! 

SOPHIA. 

Poor  wheezy  old  Blackberry!  And  should  he  stumble 
with  me  again  Mr.  Burchell  might  not  be  at  hand  to  save 
me! 

[Stops  short  in  confusion  as  OLIVIA  and  MOSES  laugh, 
teasinglyJ] 

MOSES. 
I  have  an  idea ! 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  48 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

[Proudly. ~\     My  bright  boy!     Another? 
[MRS.  PRIMROSE,  OLIVIA,  SOPHIA,  DICK  and  BILL 
gather  round  MOSES,  they  confer  in  a  whisper,  then 
clap  hands.] 

OLIVIA  AND  SOPHIA. 
[Delighted.]     Oh,  brother! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
My  own  boy ! — You  must  make  a  fine  appearance ! 

OLIVIA,  SOPHIA,  DICK  AND  BILL. 
Aye,  that  you  must! 

[MOSES  sits,  DICK  and  BILL  polish  his  shoe  buckles. 
OLIVIA  cocks  up  his  hat  with  pins.  SOPHIA  reties 
the  broad  black  riband  bow  of  his  queue,  MRS. 
PRIMROSE  gets  his  outer  coat.] 

MRS.  PRIMKOSE. 
Here ;  put  on  this  thunder-and-lightning  coat ! 

MOSES. 
Oh,  mother — I  have  outgrown  it! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

But  'tis  of  such  good  quality!     Leave  it  unbuttoned  to 
display  thy  waistcoat  of  gosling  green! 

VICAR. 
Speaking  of  pomps  and  vanities [The  others  start 


44  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

guiltily,  suspend  operations.]  Eemember  that  no  one  is 
more  sensible  of  the  difference  between  his  station  and 
ours  than  our  young  landlord! 

THE  OTHERS. 
Aye,  sir! 

[VICAR    resumes   writing,    they   resume    operations, 
MOSES  rises,  beautified,  and  goes,  rear.] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Now  mind  you  make  a  good  bargain ! 

OLIVIA. 

Aye,  sell  the  colt,  and  bring  back  a  fine  new  saddle 
horse ! 

SOPHIA. 
And  a  saddle ! — 

MRS.  PRIMROSE,  OLIVIA,  SOPHIA,  DICK  AND  BILL. 
Mind  you  make  a  good  bargain! 

MOSES. 

To  encourage  me  to  bargain,  is,  as  an  ancient  puts  it,  to 
instruct  an  eagle  how  to  fly! 

[He  goes  out,  rear;  the  others  following  him,  calling 
"Good  luck!    Good  luck!" 

VICAR. 

[Absently,  looking  up  from  worlc.~]     "  Vanity  of  vani 
ties,"  saith  the  preacher — Why — what  is  this  commotion? 


THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIEID  45 

[Looks  from  window.]  And  whither  does  Moses  lead 
the  colt? 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

[Coming  down  with  the  others.]  Now,  my  dear,  we  are 
to  have  company  at  church,  on  Sunday,  and 

VICAR. 

Fear  not,  my  love!  Whether  we  do  or  not  I  promise 
you  a  sermon !  But 

OLIVIA. 

And,  papa — surely  you  would  have  us  go  as  decently 
as  possible? 

VICAR. 

[Nods  assent.]  In  a  spirit  meek  and  humble.  But 
tell  me  whither  does  Moses 

SOPHIA. 
You  know,  sir,  he  lacks  a  tail ! 

VICAR. 
"Will  no  one  tell  me 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Now,  Charles ;  do  you  like  to  see  our  daughters  trudging 
up  to  our  pew  as  blowsed  and  red  with  walking  as  had  they 
been  winners  in  a  smock  race? 

VICAR. 
Woman !     Daughters !     Unless  some  one  tells  me 


46  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

DICK. 
Moses  is  going  to  sell  the  colt  at  the  fair! 

VlCAB. 

Sell  the  colt! 

BILL. 
And  buy  my  sisters  a  fine  new  saddle  horse  in  its  stead ! 

VICAR. 

What!  [MRS.  PRIMROSE,  OLIVIA,  SOPHIA,  DICK  AND 
BILL  all  talk  at  the  same  time.  VICAR  raises  his  hands  for 
silence.]  Silence ! — Run  after  him !  Stop  him ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Oh,  hy  this  time  he  will  have  made  his  bargain ! 

VICAR. 

And  pray  how  will  poor,  wall-eyed  old  Blackberry  plough 
without  his  accustomed  yoke-fellow? 
[General  exclamation  of  dismay.] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

We  never  thought  of  that! — I  have  it!  Charles,  you 
must  go  sell  Blackberry,  and  buy  another  new  horse ! 

THE  OTHERS. 
Aye,  papa !     That's  it ! 

[General  bustle,  getting  VICAR'S  hat,  stick,  etc.'} 

VlCAB. 
[Protesting.']     But 


THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD  47 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Now  don't  let  them  cheat  you,  love ! 

THE  OTHERS. 
No,  papa !     Don't  let  them  cheat  you ! 

VICAR. 
Woman !    Girls !    Have  you  no  opinion  of  my  prudence, 

my 

THE  OTHERS. 

[Working  the  VICAR,  rear,  out  of  the  room.']    Good-bye! 
Good  luck !     Don't  let  them  cheat  you ! 

[Exit  the  VICAR,  followed  ~by  DICK  and  BILL.    MRS. 
PRIMROSE  and  the  girls  are  jubilant.] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

I  must  get  out  my  crimson  paduasoy ! 
[She  goes  out  R.  2,  into  the  bedroom.'] 

SOPHIA. 

[Looking   tenderly  at  the  ribands  given  her   by  MR. 
BURCHELL.]   I  shall  thread  my  cap  with  these — his  gift! 
[She  goes  out  into  the  bedroom.] 

OLIVIA. 

[Considering.]     My  gauze — or  the  flowered  silk?    The 
silk  matches  my  complexion,  and  the  gauze  my  eyes — and 

he  praised  my  eyes,  my  complexion 

[The  SQUIRE  appears  at  window.    OLIVIA  not  seeing 
him,  hums  "  When  lovely  woman " 


48  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

SQUIRE. 
[Sings.]     "  Stoops  to  folly !  " 

OLIVIA. 
[Turns,  sees  him.']     La,  Mr.  Thornhill!     You? 

SQUIRE. 
[Enters,  comes  to  her.]     Knew  you  not  I  should  return  ? 

OLIVIA. 

But — so  soon! 

SQUIRE. 
Guessed  you  not  it  would  be  soon? 

OLIVIA. 

Pray,  sir,  be  seated  while  I  call  my  mamma,  my  sis 
ter. 

SQUIRE. 
Summon  them  by  all  means.    Eouse  the  neighbourhood 

— if [OuviA  hesitates.     He  laughs,  goes  to  her.] 

Ah !    The  woman  that  deliberates  is  lost ! 

OLIVIA. 

[Offering  guitar]     Perhaps,  sir,  you  will  favour  me 
with  a  selection. 

SQUIRE. 
What!    When  I'm  quite  shocking  on  the  guitar! 

OLIVIA. 

[Embarrassed.]     Sir 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  49 

SQUIRE. 
An  impudent,  familiar  fellow 


OLIVIA. 
Sir— Mr.  Thornhill 

SQUIRE. 
Whom  for  your  own  part,  you  don't  like  at  all ! 

OLIVIA. 

Indeed,  sir! — I  protest  it  serves  you  right  for  eaves 
dropping  ! 

SQUIRE. 

Oh,  I  enjoyed  it ! — But,  tell  me !    How  shall  I  teach  you 
to  like  me? 

OLIVIA. 

Sir,  is  it  worth  your  while?    I  am  but  a  simple  coun 
try  girl,  and  you  are  used  to  ladies  of  the  town ! 

SQUIRE. 

Not  one  of  whom  can  boast  half  your  attractions,  my 
dear !    Curse  me  if  ever  I  held  a  shapelier  hand — no  more 

fitted    for    cow-milking    and    butter-churning    than 

[OLIVIA  snatches  hand  away,  moves  from  him.  He  fol 
lows  her.}  Nature  framed  that  lovely  shape  to  be  shewn 
off  at  assemblies,  those  little  feet  to  dance  at  Vauxhall, 
Eanelagh;  those  eyes  to  be  the  toast  of  every  coffee  house 
in  town ;  those  lips  for 


50  THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD 

DICK  AND  BILL. 

[Outside  calling.']  Mamma!  Sisters!  Here  comes 
Moses  from  the  fair ! 

[The  SQUIRE  seizes  OLIVIA  in  his  arms  and  Tcisses  her, 
then  leaps  out  of  window  as  DICK  and  BILL  en 
ter,  at  the  rear,  and  MRS.  PRIMROSE  and  SOPHIA 
enter,  talking,  from  the  bedroom.] 

OLIVIA. 

[Hides  face  in  hands,  unnoted  by  all,  then  to  herself. ~\ 
He  despises  me  for  a  rustic. — But  I'll  show  him  I  can  hold 
my  own! 

[Enter  MOSES,  rear,  with  heavy  box  strapped  on  back.] 

ALL. 
[Greet  him,  eagerly.]    Welcome,  Moses!    Welcome! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Well,  my  boy,  and  what  have  you  brought  us  from  the 
fair? 

MOSES. 

[Unstrapping  box  and  setting  it  on  table]  I  have 
brought  you  myself ! 

ALL. 

Yes;  but 

OLIVIA. 
Did  you  sell  the  colt? 

MOSES. 
I  sold  the  colt! 

SOPHIA. 
Did  you  make  a  good  bargain? 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  51 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

My  dear;  Moses  always  makes  a  good  bargain!  He 
stands  and  haggles  till  his  adversary  is  fairly  worn  out! 

MOSES. 

I  have  sold  the  colt  for  three  pounds,  five  shillings,  and 
twopence. 

[All  exclaim,  approving.'] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

[Proudly.']  Well  done,  my  boy!  I  knew  you  would 
touch  them  off ! — Come,  let  us  have  the  money ! 

MOSES. 

The  money !    I  have  laid  it  all  out  on  a  bargain ! 
[All  exclaim,  surprised  and  doubtful.] 

OLIVIA. 
[Impatiently.']    But — my  saddle  horse? 

MOSES. 

[Opening  the  box,  with  deliberation  and  pride.]  It  was 
the  luckiest  chance.  I  fell  in  with  a  reverend  looking  man. 
He  wanted  to  borrow  twenty  pounds  on  these [Tap 
ping  box.]  But  he  was  willing  to  sell  them  outright  for 
a  fraction  of  their  value — so  I  took  one  gross,  and  neigh 
bour  Flamborough  the  other! 

ALL. 
[Impatient.']    A  gross  of  what? 


52  THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD 

MOSES. 

With  silver  rims  and  shagreen  cases — worth  double  the 
money ! 

ALL. 
But  what! 

MOSES. 
[Proudly,  displaying  a  pair.]    Green  spectacles ! 

ALL. 
[Horrified.]    WHAT ! — You  have  parted  with  the  colt 

for 

[Each  seizes  a  pair  and  examines  it.] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

A  fig  for  your  silver  rims !  Varnished  copper !  As  for 
your  shagreen  cases — A  murrain  on  such  trumpery ! 
You've  parted  with  the  colt  for 

MOSES. 
But,  mother!     Why  won't  you  listen  to  reason! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Eeason?  You  blockhead!  You  have  been  imposed 
upon !  Marry,  hang  the  idiot,  say  I ! 

VICAR. 

[Outside,  cheerfully  calls.]     What,  ho! 

DICK  AND  BILL. 
Here  comes  papa ! 

[All  looTc  conscious  and  hold  spectacles  behind  them. 
Enter  the  VICAR,  in  high  spirits.] 


THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD  53 

VICAR. 

Well,  my  dears ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Did  you  sell  Blackberry,  my  love? 

VICAR. 

Aye,  that  I  did !  To  great  advantage !  I  make  no 
doubt  I  have  done  at  least  as  good  a  day's  work  as 
Moses.  [AH  cough,  consciously.']  It  was  the  luckiest 
chance.  I  fell  in  with  a  gentleman  who  recognised  me, 
called  me  by  name — knew  me  as  the  author  of  a  work 
which  he  happened  to  be  carrying  with  him — a  treatise 
on  Monogamy.  He  bought  Blackberry  for  a  round 
figure. 

[All  exclaim,  delighted.] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Where  is  the  money,  love? 

VICAR. 

[Getting  paper  from  pockefbooTcJ]  As  I  was  unable  to 
change  a  thirty  pound  note  for  him  he  gave  me  a  draft  on 

neighbour  Flamborough 

[Great  commotion,  outside.  Enter  MR.  FLAMBOR 
OUGH,  followed  by  all  the  FLAMBOROUGHS,  excited, 
each  holding  some  article.] 

FLAMBOROUGH. 
Aye,  I  have  been  mos.t  vilely  rogued ! 

THE  OTHER  FLAMBOROUGHS. 
Oh,  most  vilely  rogued! 


54  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

VlCAE. 

Ah,  neighbour!    I  have  a  draft  on  you! 

FLAMBOKOUGH. 
On  me,  Doctor? 

VICAR. 

Given  me  at  the  fair  by  a  gentleman  who  spoke  of  you 
as  his  most  valued  friend — a  venerable  man,  dressed  as 

a  clergyman,  named 

[The  PRIMROSES  and  the  FLAMBOROUGHS  all  exclaim. 
MR.  BURCHELL,  outside,  calls,  "  What  ho,  within!" 
Enters  hurriedly.'] 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

Oh,  my  dear  friends,  I  come  to  warn  you  against  being 
rogued  at  the  fair  by  the  greatest  knave  unhung — one 
Ephraim  Jenkinson — disguised  as  a  clergyman. 

[General  exclamation.  The  VICAR  is  amazed.  Each 
PRIMROSE  and  each  FLAMBOROUGH  puts  on  the  pair 
of  spectacles  he  or  she  holds.  The  VICAR  by  signs 
shows  that  he  is  enlightened.  MR.  BURCHELL 
laughs  in  spite  of  himself.  The  others  are  forced 
to  join  in  his  laughter  despite  their  discomfiture.] 

CURTAIN — END   OF  ACT   I. 


ACT  II 


ACT  II 

The  same  scene  as  Act  I.  A  few  weeks  later.  Evening; 
candlelight. 

The  sound  of  music — pipe,  tabour  and  -fiddle — is  heard 
outside,  and  the  voices  of  the  young  people  who  are 
dancing.  Moonlight  streams  through  the  window. 

DISCOVERED:  The  VICAR,  MR.  FLAMBOROUGH  and  MRS. 
PRIMROSE,  the  two  men  smoking  pipes,  and  watching 
the  dancers  from  the  window. 

FLAMBOROUGH. 

Miss  Livy's  feet  seem  as  pat  to  the  music  as  its  echo ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Little  chit!     For  all  she  does  it  so  cleverly  she  has 
stolen  her  steps  from  me ! 

[VICAR  laughs,  comes  to  MRS.  PRIMROSE,  and  pats 
her  shoulder.] 

FLAMBOROUGH. 
They  make  a  well-matched  couple.     Miss  Livy  and 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

[With  sudden  interest,  looks  out  of  window.]     Who? — 
Oh,  Farmer  Williams ! 
[Disappointed.] 

57 


58  THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD 

FLAMBOROUGH. 

[Coming  from  window.}  By  the  way,  young  Williams 
has  asked  me  to  put  in  a  good  word  for  him  with  you. 
It  was  all  over  with  the  lad  the  first  time  he  set  eyes  on 
Miss  Livy!  And 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
[Disgusted.']     Farmer  Williams,  indeed! 

FLAMBOROUGH. 

[Continuing.']  It's  a  rare  chance,  neighbours !  I'd  wish 
no  better  for  one  of  my  own  girls. 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

[With  pride.}  Thanks,  sir!  A  good  match  mayhap 
for  Miss  Flamborough,  but  when  it  comes  to  Miss  Prim 
rose ! 

VlCAB. 

Tut,  tut,  wife !  I  have  a  high  opinion  of  Mr.  Williams. 
He  seems  prudent,  and  sincere! 

FLAMBOROUGH. 
As  fine  a  fellow  as  ever  trod  shoe-leather,  sir. 

VICAR. 
And,  I  take  it,  in  easy  circumstances. 

FLAMBOROUGH. 

Aye.  A  warm  man,  able  to  give  your  girl  good  bread. 
It's  a  rare  chance.  His  mother  has  lately  died,  and  his 
farm  needs  a  manager. 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  59 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Hoity-toity!     A  manager! 

VICAR. 
Deborah !     This  pride  of  heart ! 

FLAMBOROUGH. 

Pride  comes  before  a  fall !    Let  me  tell  you 

[Excited  voices  are  heard  outside.  OLIVIA,  SOPHIA, 
DICK  and  BILL  enter,  rear,  followed  ~by  MR.  BUR- 
CHELL,  the  MISSES  FLAMBOROUGH,  MOSES  and 
FARMER  WILLIAMS.] 

OLIVIA,  SOPHIA,  DICK  AND  BILL. 

[Entering.']     Oh,  Papa,  Mamma!     There's  a  fortune- 
telling  gipsy  outside! 

OLIVIA. 

She  has  promised  the  Misses  Flamborough  each  a  rich 
and  handsome  husband ! 

[The  MISSES  FLAMBOROUGH  titter,  taxed  by  MOSES, 
FARMER  WILLIAMS,  and  others.  FLAMBOROUGH 
laughs  at  them.'} 

SOPHIA. 

[To  VICAR.]     Please  give  us  each  a  shilling  to  cross  her 
palm  with  silver! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Why,  my  dears,  'twas  but  yesterday  I  gave  you  each  a 
guinea ! 

OLIVIA  AND  SOPHIA. 

Aye,  mother,  but 

[Stop  short.'] 


60  THE    VICAR  jOF   WAKEFIELD 

DICK. 
You  bade  them  not  to  change  it,  mother!     You  told 

them 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Hush,  Dick ! 

[Hand  over  DICK'S  mouth.'] 

BILL. 

Aye.  You  told  them  just  to  carry  it  for  the  honour  of 
the  family! 

[MRS.   PRIMROSE   tries  to   hush  BILL.     The   others 
laugh.] 

VICAR. 

[Gives  each  daughter  a  shilling.'}  There !  May  it  bring 
you  your  heart's  desire ! 

OLIVIA  AND  SOPHIA. 

Oh,  thank  you,  sir ! — A  rich  and  handsome  husband ! 
[Run  off,  gaily,  accompanied  ~by  the  others,  with  the 
exception  of  MR.  BURCHELL,  who  remains.] 

MR.  FLAMBOROUGH. 

[Seriously.']  Speaking  of  husbands — Doctor,  I  say  it' 
as  one  father  to  another ! — Gossip  is  busy  with  your  girl's 
good  name ! — Miss  Olivia 

VICAR. 
[Horrified]     What!     Mr.  Flamborough!     My  Olivia! 

MR.  FLAMBOROUGH. 
[Nods  assent,  sadly]     The  young  Squire — indeed  there's 


THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD  6l 

scarce  a  farmer's  daughter  within  twenty  miles  but  has 
found  him  successful — and  faithless!     Eh,  Mr.  Burchell? 

MR.  BURCHELL. 
I  grieve  to  say  I  believe  it  to  be  true ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Marry,  what  then?  A  reformed  rake  ever  makes  the 
best  husband ! 

VICAR. 
I  deny  it !     Not  the  best ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
As  good  as  the  best,  then ! 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

If  Mr.  Thornhill  intended  marriage !  But,  as  I  happen 
to  know,  he  is  paying  his  addresses  to  an  heiress — a  Miss 
Wilmot ! 

VICAR. 
What!     My  son  George's  mistress,  the  lovely  Arabella? 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
A  trumped-up  tale,  I'll  warrant! 

MR.  FLAMBOROUGH. 
Meanwhile  the  parish  is  buzzing  with  scandalous  reports ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
The  parish  is  envious ! 


62  THE   VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

VICAR. 

Hush,  Deborah!  The  parish  is  over-censorious.  Our 
landlord  has  hut  called  here  once  or  twice,  sent  us  a  side 
or  so  of  venison,  and  once  condescended  to  partake  of  our 
goose  and  dumplings  !  [MR.  FLAMBOROUGH  coughs.  MR. 
BURCHELL  is  silent.  MRS.  PRIMROSE  looks  conscious.] 
So,  gentlemen,  though  your  caution  is  well-intentioned, 


[Excited  voices  outside.    Enter  OLIVIA  and  SOPHIA.] 

OLIVIA  AND  SOPHIA. 
Oh,  papa,  mamma!     It's  beyond  belief! 

OLIVIA. 

That  gipsy  —  I  believe  she  deals  with  someone  who's  not 
quite  right!  Within  a  twelvemonth,  she  declares,  I'm  to 
be  married! 

SOPHIA. 
And  so  am  I! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Last  night  I  dreamed  of  a  coffin  and  crossbones,  sure 
sign  of  a  wedding  ! 

OLIVIA. 
And  I  saw  a  ring  in  the  candle  1 

SOPHIA. 
And  I  a  love-knot  in  my  cup! 

VICAR. 
Amazing!     But  to  whom  are  you  to  be  married? 


THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD  63 

OLIVIA. 
That  is  the  wonderful  part !     To  a  squire ! 

MRS.  PRIMKOSE. 
Aha!     What  say  you  to  that,  Mr.  Flamborough ? 

MR.  FLAMBOROUGH. 

[Earnestly.']     God  send  it  may  be  true,  madam ! 
[Goes  out,  rear.~\ 

SOPHIA. 
And  I'm  to  have  a  baronet! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Aha!    What  say  you  to  that,  Mr.  Burchell? 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

[Delighted.]     God    send   .it    may    be    true,    madam! 
[SOPHIA  exclaims,  disappointed  in  him;  he  hurriedly  cor 
rects  himself.]     I  mean — my  dearest  life — [SOPHIA  goes 
out,  rear,  pouting.     MR.  BURCHELL  follows,  protesting] 
[OLIVIA  sits,  and  happily  plays  softly  on  guitar,  hum 
ming  her  song.] 

VICAR. 

Olivia — come  hither,  my  girl !  I  have  just  had  an  offer 
for  thee ! 

OLIVIA. 

[Overcome  with  joy.]  Oh,  papa!  Has  he  really 
spoken?  Oh,  mother,  give  me  joy!  Oh,  Fm  the  happi 
est — but  why  is  he  himself  not  here? 

VlCAB. 

Shall  I  call  him? 


fc  THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD 

OLIVIA. 

Aye,  call  him.     Edward — Ned! 
[Running  to  the  door.'] 

VICAE. 
[Holding  her  lack.']     Olivia — Fanner  Williams- 


OLIVIA. 

[Stops    short,    amazed,    and    heart-broken.]     Farmer 
Williams!     Oh,  I  thought— 
[Breaks  into  sobbing.] 

VICAR. 

My  child,  this  is  serious !  Has  Mr.  Thornhill  discov 
ered  a  secret  attachment  for  thee  ? 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Secret — when  he  comes  daily 

[Stops  short.] 

VICAE. 
[Amazed.]     What ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

While  you  and  Moses  are  harvesting,  my  love,  to  instruct 
Olivia  in  picquet !  And  to  retail  the  wit  of  the  playhouses 
ere  it  passes  into  the  jest-books. 

VICAR. 

When  she  had  far  better  be  employed  in  sewing,  or  bak 
ing  !  Do  you  ever  see  the  Squire  alone,  Olivia  ? 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  65 

OLIVIA. 
Now  and  then,  sir — while  out  walking — by  accident. 

VICAR. 

Ah,  then  there  is  foundation  for  gossip ! — But,  Farmer 
Williams — I  myself  have  seen  you  lavish  tenderness  on 
the  young  man ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Only  when  Squire  Thornhill  was  present,  my  dear — to 
spur  him  on! 

OLIVIA. 

That  is  all,  truly,  sir!  As  for  Farmer  Williams — the 
great  oaf  to  take  it  to  himself ! 

VICAR. 

Hm.  Yet,  somehow,  your  ruse  seems  not  to  have  suc 
ceeded  !  [SQUIRE,  humming  song,  passes  window.] 
Here  comes  the  Squire  now.  I  shall  question  him ! 

MR.  PRIMROSE. 
Nay,  Charles.     Leave  him  to  me! 

[Pushes  VICAR  and  OLIVIA  behind  screen.] 

SQUIRE. 

[Opens  door,  rear,  enters. ~\  Olivia — Ah,  Mrs.  Primrose. 
They  told  me  I  should  find  her  here. 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

She's  off  wandering  by  herself  in  the  moonlight,  Squire, 
no  doubt — thinking  of  somebody ! — Pray,  sir,  let  me  con- 


66  THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD 

gratulate  you — on  your  approaching  marriage.     Miss  Wil- 
mot  is  not  only  a  fortune,  but  as  some  think,  a  beauty ! 

SQUIRE. 

Miss  Wilmot!  Now  strike  me  ugly  if  ever  I  looked 
twice  at  such  a  fright! 

MBS.  PRIMROSE. 

And,  yet,  sir,  'tis  the  warm  fortunes  get  the  good  hus 
bands  !  And,  while  we're  on  that  subject,  can  you  recom 
mend  me  a  husband  for  my  Olivia? 

SQUIRE. 

Madam,  I  known  no  one  who  deserves  such  a  treasure. 
Olivia  is  a  goddess !  She's  an  angel ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Ah,  Squire — you  flatter  my  poor  girl.  We  are  even  now 
considering  a  proposal  from  Farmer  Williams. 

SQUIRE. 

What !     Sacrifice  such  beauty  to — Never !     I  cannot  ap 
prove!     I  have  my  reasons! 
[Going  up.~\ 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
[Following  'him.']     Your  reasons,  sir !     If  I  might  know 

your  reasons 

SQUIRE. 

Madam,  they  lie  buried  here  !     [Hand  on  heart.     Exit.'] 

{The  VICAR  and  OLIVIA  emerge.     During  this  scene 

the  VICAR  has  wished  to  interpose,  but  has  been  held 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  67 

back  by  OLIVIA,  who  by  signs  shows  her  satisfac 
tion.  MRS.  PRIMROSE  by  nods  and  winks  has  signed 
to  the  VICAR  how  cleverly  she  thinks  she  is  manag 
ing  the  interview.  He  shakes  head,  dubiously. ,] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Well! 

OLIVIA. 

Papa !  Can  you  doubt  his  sentiments,  the  exalted  nature 
of  his  passion? 

VICAR. 

To  me  it  savoured  more  of  love  than  of  matrimony! 
Hark  you,  my  child.  I  put  no  constraint  upon  your  feel 
ings.  But  neither  will  I  let  you  trifle  with  honest  Wil 
liams.  If 

[Music;  voices  outside,  calling  OLIVIA.] 

OLIVIA. 

Papa;  I  promise  you  that  if  within  a  week  the  Squire 
has  not  declared  himself,  I  will  marry  Mr.  Williams ! 

VICAR. 

That  is  my  dutiful  child !  [Kisses  OLIVIA.  All  three 
go  out.'] 

[SQUIRE  leaps  in  at  window.    LADY  BLARNEY  and 
Miss  SKEGGS  look  in  at  window.'] 

LADY  BLARNEY. 

Hang  it,  Ned!  You  don't  expect  us  to  follow  you  at 
that  gait ! 

[SQUIRE  opens  door,  rear.    Miss  SKEGGS  enters.'] 


68  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

Miss  SKEGGS. 

So  this  is  where  your  Perdita  lives,  eh?  The  abode,  no 
doubt,  of  virtue! 

LADY  BLAKNEY. 

[Entering,  rear.']  Oh,  hang  your  virtue!  What  have 
we  to  do  with  virtue! 

SQUIRE. 

A  truce  to  jest!  The  business  in  hand  is  this.  On 
some  pretext  or  another,  get  the  girl  to  town — or,  as  the 
sisters  have  never  been  separated,  both  girls!  [LADY 
BLARNEY  and  Miss  SKEGGS  nod  assent.']  But,  guard  your 
tongues.  If  you  rip  out  an  oath — ware! 

LADY  BLARNEY. 

Now  curse  me  if  I 

[Claps  her  hand  over  her  mouth.] 

Miss  SKEGGS. 
Let  us  pray! 

LADY  BLARNEY. 

Amen! 

SQUIRE. 

My  gipsy  trick  has  paved  the  way.  [Voices,  laughter 
heard  outside.']  Also  I  have  already  mentioned  you  as 
my  cousins. 

LADY  BLARNEY  AND  Miss  SKEGGS. 
[In  fits  of  laughter.]     Your  cousins ! 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  69 

SQUIRE. 

Your  names — let's  see. — Aye.     Lady  Blarney,  and  Miss 
— Miss  Carolina  Wilhelmina    Amelia  Skeggs! 
[The  women  laugh  louder.'] 

LADY  BLARNEY. 
I  speak  for  my  Lady  Blarney. 

Miss  SKEGGS. 

And  I  for  Miss  Carolina  Wilhelmina  Amelia  Skeggs. 
[Voices  and  laughter  outside,  nearer.] 

SQUIRE. 

[Leading  them  hurriedly  out  at  R.  l.~\  This  way — 
through  the  scullery.  Best  make  your  entrance  when  they 
are  gathered  within ! 

LADY  BLARNEY. 

[Following  Mm,  with  a  swagger.]  My  Lady  Blarney's 
carriage  stops  the  way ! 

Miss  SKEGGS. 

[Following  her.]     Make  way  for  Miss  Carolina  Wilhel 
mina  Amelia  Skeggs!     [Exit,  laughing  and  swaggering.] 
[Enter,   rear,   the   PRIMROSES,   the   FLAMBOROUGHS, 
FARMER  WILLIAMS,  and  OTHERS,  also  MR.  BUR- 
CHELL.     They  are  playing   blindman's   luff.     MR. 
BURCHELL,   blindfolded,   catches  SOPHIA   as   they 
enter.] 

DICK. 

'Tis  odd  how  Miss  Flamborough  always  catches  Mr. 
Williams ! 

[General  laughter.] 


70  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

BILL. 

And  how  Miss  Mollie  always  catches  brother  Moses! 
[More  laughter.] 

DICK. 
And  how  Farmer  Williams  always  catches  sister  Livy ! 

BILL. 

And  how  sister  Sophy  always  catches  Mr.  Burchell ! 
[General  laughter.     DICK  and  BILL  are  hushed  up.] 

ALL. 
Now  what  shall  we  play  ? 

SOME. 
Hot  cockles ! 

OTHERS. 
Aye!     Hot  cockles. 

OTHERS. 
Questions  and  commands! 

MR.  FLAMBOROUGH. 
Play  a  sitting  game  so  that  we  elders  can  join  in! 

VICAR. 
I  fear  we  lack  chairs  enough ! 

MR.  FLAMBOROUGH. 

A   squatting  game,   then !     [Delighted   laughter  from 
others.]     Hunt  the  slipper! 

ALL. 
[Applaud.]     Aye,  aye!     Hunt  the  slipper! 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  71 

MR.  FLAMBOROUGH. 
Down  on  your  hams,  everybody ! 

[They  form  a  ring,  sitting  on  the  floor.  MR.  FLAM- 
BOROUGH  is  just  tying  a  handkerchief  over  OLIVIA'S 
eyes  when  there  is  a  loud  double  knock  at  door, 
rear.~\ 

ALL. 
What's  that ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Some  trick,  I  make  no  doubt !  Come  in !  {Knock  re 
peated.']  Are  you  deaf,  you  idiot  ?  Come  in !  {Throws 
door  wide  open.~] 

{Footman  in  livqry  announces.'] 

FOOTMAN. 

My  Lady  Blarney,  and  Miss  Carolina  Wilhelmina  Amelia 
Skeggs !  [General  consternation.  Some  rise  slightly, 
then  sink  l)ack  on  to  floor,  the  others  remain  as  if  glued 
to  floor.] 

[Enter  LADY  BLARNEY  and  Miss  SKEGGS.  FOOTMAN 
closes  door  behind  them  from  outside.] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

My  Ladies — death  and  confusion!  Won't  you  do  us 
the  honour  to — Moses — chairs  ! 

[MosES  places  chairs  in  centre  of  circle.] 

OLIVIA. 

[Going  up,  and  leaning  against  dresser.]  The  Squire's 
cousins — Oh,  what  a  mortification ! 


72  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

LADY  BLABNEY. 
[Clearing  throat.]     Ahem! 

Miss  SKEGGS. 
[Also  clearing  throat.]     Ahem! 

MR.  FLAMBOEOUGH. 
[Out  of  nervousness.]     Ahem ! 
[The  MISSES  FLAMBOROUGH  stop  him.] 

LADY  BLARNEY. 

[Indicating  the  MISSES   FLAMBOEOUGH.]     The  Misses 
Primrose  ? 

[The  MISSES  FLAMBOEOUGH,  overcome  ~by  confusion, 
bury  their  heads  on  their  father's  shoulders.] 

MES.  PRIMEOSE. 

[Indicates,   introducing.]     My  daughters,    Olivia   and 
Sophia. 

LADY  BLARNEY. 

Our  cousin  Thornhill  promised  us  the  pleasure  of  meet 
ing  you  young  ladies  at  church  some  weeks  ago. 

[The  PEIMROSES  looked  conscious,  the  FLAMBOROCGHS 
amused.] 

OLIVIA. 
An  accident  happened  to  our  horses! 

LADY  BLARNEY  AND  Miss  SKEGGS. 
Oh,  vastly  sorry ! 

SOPHIA. 
But  we  were  not  injured ! 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  73 

Miss  SKEGGS. 
Oh,  monstrous  glad ! 

DICK. 

Moses  sold  the  colt 

[Someone  hushes  him  up.~\ 

BILL. 

And  papa  sold  Blackberry- 


[Someone  hushes  up  BILL.    A  pauseJ} 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Fools,  are  ye  glued  to  the  floor  ?     The  young  people  were 
playing  a  game,  your  Ladyship ! 

LADY  BLARNEY. 

Skeggs,  my  dear  creature,  do  you  hear?     They  were 
playing  a  game ! 

MR.  FLAMBOROUGH. 

Aye;  Hunt  the   Slipper!     Won't  you  ladies  join   in? 
Come,  squat  down  on  your  hams. 
[He  is  sharply  checked.] 

Miss  SKEGGS. 

By  the  living  Jingo,  games  always  throw  me  into  a 
muck  of  a  sweat! 

[All  at  first  start,  shocked,  then  nod  as  if  to  say  that 
this  doubtless  is  a  fashionable  expression.  MR.  BUR- 
CHELL,  disgusted,  sits  facing  the  fire.  There  is  an 
other  pause,  during  which  the  two  strangers,  still 
seated  in  the  centre  of  the  circle,  whisper  together. 
They  now  speak  out  loudJ\ 


74  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

I  assure  your  Ladyship,  his  lordship  turned  all  manner 
of  colours,  my  Lady  fell  into  a  swoon,  but  Sir  Tomkyns, 

drawing  his  sword,  vowed 

[Some  of  her  hearers,  in  awe-struck  tones,  echo,  "  His 
LORDSHIP  !     SIR  TOMKYNS  !    HER  LADYSHIP  ! "] 

MR.  BURCHELL. 
[Disgusted."]     Fudge ! 
[The  PRIMROSES  look  annoyed  with  MR.  BURCHELL.] 

LADY  BLARNEY. 

[Speaking  audibly.']  And  my  Lord  Duke  cried  out 
three  times  to  his  valet  de  chamhre,  "  Jernigan,  Jernigan, 
Jernigan,  bring  me  my  garters !  " 

[All  except  MR.  BURCHELL  seem  impressed.'] 

MR.  BURCHELL. 
[Loud  and  disgusted.']     Fudge ! 

Miss  SKEGGS. 

Won't  your  ladyship  favour  me  with  a  sight  of  the 
verses  you  made  on  the  occasion? 

LADY  BLARNEY. 

My  dear  creature,  do  you  think  I  carry  such  things 
about  with  me? 

Miss  SKEGGS. 

Except  your  ladyship's  little  pieces,  and  those  of  our 
dear  Countess,  there's  no  high  life — nothing  but  the  most 
lowest  stuff  comes  out  in  the  Lady's  Magazine .' 


THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD  75 

MR.    BUECHELL. 

Fudge ! 

[The  PRIMROSES  show  annoyance  with  him.'] 

LADY  BLARNEY. 

Oh,  hang  it  all! — [Everyone  starts,  slightly  shocked.'} 
as  the  dear  Princess  of  Wales  says ! 

MR,  BURCHELL. 
Fudge ! 

Miss  SKEGGS. 

True !  Nothing  goes  down  at  the  playhouses  excepting 
Shakespeare!  Though  of  course  it  is  too  diverting  when 
that  dear,  droll  Mr.  Garrick  plays  Shylock! 

LADY  BLARNEY. 

Aye.  For  diversion,  give  me  Shakespeare,  and  the 
Musical  Glasses! 

MR.  FLAMBOROUGH. 
What  are  the  Musical  Glasses? 
{He  is  promptly  suppressed.] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Speaking  of  taste,  your  Ladyships,  our  family  recently 
sat  in  a  group  to  a  travelling  limner.  I  myself  was  de 
picted  as  Venus,  modestly,  yet  modishly,  attired,  with  a 

diamond  stomacher 

DICK. 

The  painter  had  to  imagine  the  diamonds!  [MRS. 
PRIMROSE  hushes  up  DICK,  and  continues.] 


76  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

My  husband,  in  gown  and  bands,  was  presenting  me 
with  his  famous  treatise  on  monogamy ! 
[MR.  BURCHELL  laughs.] 

LADY  BLARNEY. 
Vastly  humorous ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Olivia  as  an  Amazon,  wore  a  green  Joseph.     Sophia  was 
a  shepherdess. 

BILL. 

With  as  many  sheep  as  the  painter  would  throw  in  for 
nothing ! 

[BILL  is  suppressed.] 

LADY  BLARNEY  AND  Miss  SKEGGS. 
Vastly  droll ! 

MR.  FLAMBOROUGH. 

The    Flamboroughs    were    painted   separately.     Seven 
Flamboroughs,  each  holding  an  orange ! 

[MR.  BURCHELL  laughs  approvingly.  The  PRIMROSES 
show  that  they  consider  this  vulgar.] 

DICK. 

But  our  picture  has  to  stay  in  the  scullery  where  it  was 
painted ! 

[DICK  is  suppressed.] 


THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD  77 

BILL. 

It  is  too  larged  to  be  moved ! 

[BILL    is    suppressed.     The    FLAMBOROUGHS    show 
amusement. ] 

LADY  BLARNEY. 

Monstrous  entertaining! — Well,  my  dear  creature,  as  I 
was  saying:  My  reader,  an  orphan,  has  left  me,  and  I 
despair  of  replacing  her.  Thirty  pounds  a  year  is  a  small 
stipend  for  a  well-bred  girl  of  character! 

[MRS.  PRIMROSE  shows  sudden  interest.] 

Miss  SKEGGS. 

That  I  know,  having  tried  three  new  companions  this 
last  half  year!  Virtue,  dear  Lady  Blarney,  is  worth 
twenty-five  guineas  a  year !  Deuce  take  it,  virtue  is  worth 
any  price — but  where  is  virtue  to  be  found? 

MR.  BURCHELL. 
Fudge ! 

[The  PRIMROSES  show  annoyance.'] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

[Has  counted  on  her  fingers.]  Thirty  pounds,  and 
twenty-five  guineas  a  year  going  a-begging!  Your  Lady 
ships. — Pardon — but  my  girls  can  read,  write,  cast  ac 
counts,  broadstitch,  cross  and  change,  pink,  point,  frill; 
they  know  something  of  music,  they  can  do  up  small 
clothes,  work  on  catgut;  my  eldest  can  cut  paper,  and  my 
younger  has  a  pretty  knack  of  telling  fortunes  upon  the 
cards ! 


78  THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD 

MR.    BUECHELL. 

Fudge! 

[LADY  BLARNEY  and  Miss  SKEGGS  exchange  glances.] 

Miss  SKEGGS. 

As  far  as  I  can  tell,  the  young  ladies  seem  very  fit  for 
such  employments ! 

LADY  BLARNEY. 

Aye.  And  to  see  a  little  more  of  the  world  would  greatly 
improve  Miss  Olivia! 

Miss  SKEGGS. 

And  a  winter  in  town  would  make  quite  another  thing 
of  my  little  Sophia ! 

MR.   BURCHELL. 

Fudge ! 

Miss  SKEGGS. 

But  a  matter  of  this  kind,  madam,  requires  a  thorough 
examination  into  character ! 

[MR.  BURCHELL  nods  assent.'] 

LADY  BLARNEY. 

[Rising.]  We  will  consult  my  cousin  Thornhill.  Not 
that  we  suspect  the  young  ladies'  prudence,  virtue,  and 
discretion,  but  there  is  a  form  in  these  things,  madam — 
there  is  a  form ! 

Miss  SKEGGS. 
[Also  having  risen.]     Aye,  there  is  a  form! 

MR.  BURCHELL. 
Fudge ! 

[MOSES  opens  door.     FOOTMAN,  standing  outside,  calls 


THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD  79 

"  My  Ladies'  carriage ! "    The  ladies  pass  out  with 
haughty  inclinations.     The  PRIMROSES  bow  them 

f.] 

MR.  FLAMBOROUGH. 

[Rising  slowly  from  floor,  his  example  being  followed 
by  all  the  FLAMBOROUGHS  and  FARMER  WILLIAMS,  shakes 
his  head  slowly.]  Shakespeare — and  the  Musical  Glasses ! 
[The  other  FLAMBOROUGHS  and  FARMER  WILLIAMS  echo 
him.  Taking  his  hat,  he  goes  to  the  door,  imitating  the 
ladies,  and  saying.']  There  is  a  form  in  these  things,  my 
dear  madam  !  There  is  a  form  ! 

[He  goes  out,  followed  by  his  family,  FARMER  WIL 
LIAMS,  and  other  guests.  The  VICAR  shaTces  his 
head,  doubtfully.  The  other  PRIMROSES  show  great 
pride  and  importance.] 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

[Takes  his  hat  and  stick  to  go.    Looks  from  MRS.  PRIM 
ROSE  to  OLIVIA  and  SOPHIA  and  back  again.    Angrily.] 
Fudge ! 

[He  goes  out  hastily.] 

[CURTAIN.] 
[END  OF  ACT  II.] 


ACT  III 


ACT  III 

Same  scene  as  Acts  I  and  II.  The  day  after  Act  II. 
Late  afternoon. 

DISCOVERED  :  OLIVIA  and  SOPHIA  folding  dresses  and  pack 
ing  a  trunk — OLIVIA  gaily,  with  snatches  of  song, 
SOPHIA  sadly  sighing.  THE  VICAR  and  MOSES  play 
ing  backgammon.  MRS.  PRIMROSE  setting  tea.  DICK 
and  BILL  poring  over  a  volume. 

OLIVIA. 

My  flowered,  silk,  my  gauze,  my  lute-string ! — Tra-la-la ! 

SOPHIA. 
My  cap — with  the  ribands  he  bought  me — Heigh-ho! 

VICAR. 
A  capital  game — backgammon! 

MOSES. 
Aye — for  the  winner! 

[Laughs,  taxing  VICAR  with  losing."] 

DICK. 

[Spelling   out.]     Musical   Glasses. — A  musical  instru 
ment,  consisting  of 

83 


84  THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

[Pausing  to  look  over  children.']  What  book  have  you 
there,  children? 

DICK  AND  BILL. 
Dr.  Johnson's  Dictionary! 

BILL. 
[Spelling  out  words.]     Musical  Glasses — a  musical  in- 

trument 

MRS.  PRIMROSE 

{Proudly  patting  children's  heads.']  Bless  you !  I  shall 
live  to  see  thee,  Dick,  a  professor,  and  thee,  Bill,  a  bishop, 
yet! 

OLIVIA. 
London! — La,  la! 

SOPHIA. 
[Mournfully.]     London !     Heigh-ho ! 

DICK. 

[Scrambling  down  from  the  chair.]  Sister  Livy — 
Why  do  you  sing? 

OLIVIA. 
Because  I'm  going  to  London! 

SOPHIA. 
Heigh-ho ! 

BILL. 
Sister  Sophy,  why  do  you  sigh? 

SOPHIA. 
Because  I'm  going  to  London! 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  85 

MOSES. 

London  brings  Livy  as  much  nearer  her  heart's  desire  as 
it  takes  Sophy  away  from  hers! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

My  poor  dear ! — But  as  my  Lady  Blarney  remarked,  Lon 
don  will  qualify  Olivia  for  a  higher  sphere,  while  as  for 
Sophia,  as  Miss  Carolina  Wilhelmina  Amelia  Skeggs  truly 

said 

[A  loud  double  rap  is  heard  at  the  rear  door.    All 
show  surprise.] 

MOSES. 

[Having  seen  from  the  window  who  it  is.]  A  servant 
in  the  Thornhill  liveries! 

[Going  to  the  door  to  open  it.] 

OLIVIA. 

[In  surprise.]  Why — 'tis  an  hour  before  the  ladies  were 
to  send  for  us ! 

[MOSES  receives  a  letter  from  the  servant,  and  gives 
it  to  MRS.  PRIMROSE.] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

A  letter. — Children,  run  after  the  man  and  give  him 
seven  shillings! 

[Giving  a   coin   to   the   children,   who   run    outside 
with  it.] 

VICAR. 
Seven  shillings  ?    My  love !     What  extravagance ! 


86  THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Now,  Charles — thirty  pounds  and  twenty-five  guineas  a 
year — fifty-six  pounds,  five  shillings,  English  money — se 
cured  by  my  good  management 

[Meanwhile  opening  the  letter,  and  reading  it.  Sud 
denly  she  gives  an  exclamation.  OLIVIA  and 
SOPHIA  read  over  her  shoulder.  All  three  exclaim 
with  horrified  amazement.] 

THE  VICAR  AND  MOSES. 
What  is  it? 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

This  is  the  work  of  envy!  The  ladies,  having  received 
some  ill  report  of  our  daughters,  have  set  out  to  town 
without  them. 

[VICAR  and  MOSES  echo  the  horrified  amazement.] 

OLIVIA. 

What  can  it  mean  ? — 111  report — and  no  London !  Oh, 
oh,  oh! 

[Bursts  into  tears.] 

SOPHIA. 

I  can  forgo  London — but  ill-report — Oh,  oh,  oh ! 
[Bursts  into  tears.] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Envy  of  your  good  fortune,  your  superior  accomplish 
ments,  your  beauty — our  family  distinction! 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  87 

VICAR. 

Now  may  heaven  discover  to  me  who  maligns  my  chil 
dren! 

[Enter  DICK  and  BILL,  excited,  with  a  pocketbook.~\ 

DICK  AND  BILL. 

Papa !  Mamma !  See  what  we  have  found ! — A  pocket- 
book! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Ah !  'Twas  this  morning  a  purse  bounced  out  of 
the  fire  into  my  lap !  I'll  warrant  you  'tis  money,  sent  to 
console  us! 

VICAR. 

[Taking  pockefbook  and  examining  it.']  We  must  as 
certain  the  owner,  in  order  to  return  it ! — No  name ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
'Tis  but  a  penniless  pouch! — What  are  these:  notes? 

VlCAE. 

Aye;  that  the  owner  will  not  grudge  you.  "Keflections 
of  a  Philosopher !  " 

[SOPHIA  shows  sudden  interest. ~\ 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Marry,  I  have  no  use  for  such! — [A  sealed  letter  drops 
out.  It  is  picked  upJ]  What's  this !  "  Copy  of  letter 
sent  to  Lady  Blarney  and  Miss  Carolina  Wilhelmina 
Amelia  Skeggs !  "  The  key  to  the  mystery ! 

[All  exclaim.    MRS.  PRIMROSE  about  to  open  letter.] 


88  .THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

VICAR. 

[Hastily  interposing.']     My  dear !    You  would  not  break 
a  seal ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

What !     When  you  yourself  just  now  called  on  heaven  to 
discover  to  you  the  traducer  of  your  daughters'  fame ! 
[All  except  VICAR  assent  to  this  view.'] 

VlCAH. 

Natheless — a  seal! 

MOSES. 

As  Matthew  Prior  says,  "  The  end  justifies  the  means." 
Why  not  Break  the  seal  to  learn  the  owner's  name  ? 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
My  bright  boy !    As  ever  you  hit  the  nail. 

SOPHIA. 

Papa !     Mamma !     The  philosophy  proclaims  the  owner 
— Mr.  Burchell ! 

[General  sensation.] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

To  be  sure!     The  viper  that  has  warmed  himself  by 
yonder  fire,  eaten  at  this  table,  borrowed  money! 

VICAR. 
My  love!     He  repaid  the  money  most  honourably! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
[Nods  assent.]     To  ingratiate  himself  with  you,  and 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  89 

worm  himself  into  the  affections  of  this  misguided  child! 
Mark  me,  this  is  a  plot  to  prevent  Sophia  from  being 
removed  to  a  sphere  beyond  his  reach! 

SOPHIA. 

Mother,  you  wrong  him!  Poor,  poor  gentleman,  when 
he  is  not  here  to  defend  himself!  My  life  on  his  good 
faith !  Prove  him,  I  say.  Eead  the  letter ! 

[Snatches   letter,    breaks   seal,   glances  at   contents, 
shrieks,  falls  into  chair  sobbing.    All  exclaim.] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

[Seizes  letter,  reads.]     As  I  thought !     "  I  will  not  have 
simplicity  imposed  upon,  nor  virtue  contaminated." 
[Great  sensation.'} 

SOPHIA. 
Virtue  contain —  Oh,  how  could  he! 

OLIVIA. 

Simplicity  imposed  on!     The  perjured  villain! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
My  poor  girl !    But  'tis  best  your  eyes  should  be  opened ! 

DICK  AND  BILL. 

[Seeing  MR.  BURCHELL  pass  window,  cry  out.']     Oh, 
here  comes  Mr.  Burchell! 
[All  exclaim.] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

The  hardened  villain! — Let  him  not  darken  our  doors! 
[Seizing  a  broom,  or  some  household  implement.] 


90  THE   VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

VICAR. 

Nay,  love! — I'll  confront  him  with  his  treachery! 
[Taking  letter.    A  knock  at  door.} 

MOSES. 

Catch  him  by  guile! — I'll  think  up  some  quotation! 
[Knock  repeated.'] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Come  in ! 

[Enter  MR.  BURCHELL,  cheerfully.    DICK  and  BILL 
run  to  him.] 

MR.  BURCHELL. 
Good  morrow,  friends! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

[With  sarcasm,  and  snatching  DICK  and  BILL  away  from 
him.]     Good  morrow,  friend! 

[MR.  BURCHELL  looks  puzzled.    A  slight  pause.] 

VICAR. 

[Trying  to  ~be  stern  at  a  sign  from  MRS.  PRIMROSE.] 
Ahem.    A  fine  day,  sir! 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

A  very  fine  day,  Doctor,  though  I  fancy  it  bodes  rain ! 
But — I  find  you  in  a  merry  mood ! 
[Looking  about  him,  puzzled.] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
[Breaking  into  sardonic  laughter.]     Ah,  ha,  ha,  ha! 


THE   VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  91 

A  merry  mood,  indeed!     Pardon,  sir,  but  I  do  love  my 
joke ! 

MR.  BUKCHELL. 

Dear  madam,  I  pardon  you  with  all  my  heart,  for  I  con 
fess  I  see  no  joke ! 

ALL. 
He  sees  no  joke!     Ah,  ha,  ha,  ha! 

{Echoing  MRS.  PRIMROSE'S  sarcastic  laughter.] 

MOSES. 

[With  a  sudden  idea.']  I  have  it!  "An  honest  man's 
the  noblest  work  of  God ! "  What  say  you  to  that,  Mr. 
Burchell? 

[All  show  approval.'] 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

Unworthy  of  Pope's  genius,  sir!  Men,  like  works  of 
art,  should  be  measured  by  the  greatness  of  their  virtues 
rather  than  their  freedom  from  defects! 

[The  PRIMROSES  exchange  glances,  as  if  to  say,  "  That 
proves  him  guilty!"] 

VlCAH. 

Ahem!  Look  me  in  the  eye,  sir! — Do  you  know  this 
pocketbook  ? 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

[Feels  in  pocket;  misses  pocketbooTcJ]  Aye,  sir!  'Tis 
mine !  I  am  glad  you  found  it ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Brazen  effrontery ! 


92  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

VICAR. 

And  can  you  deny  that  you  wrote  this  infamous  epistle  ? 

MR.  BUECHELL. 
I  certainly  wrote  that  letter,  sir !     But  as  for  calling  it 

infamous 

[SOPHIA  shrieks.] 

SOPHIA. 

Oh,  perjured  wretch! 
[Swoons.'] 

MR.  BURCHELL. 
My  Sophia — senseless! 
[Runs  to  SOPHIA.] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Viper !    You  have  killed  her ! 

DICK. 
She  can  only  see  out  of  the  corner  of  one  eye! 

SOPHIA. 
[Recovering.']     I'm  better  now!    Unhand  me,  villain! 

MR.  BURCHELL. 
[Still  more  puzzled.]     Villain  ? 

OLIVIA. 

Oh,  how  could  you  accuse  me  of  imposing  on  the  sim 
plicity  of  my  Lady  Blarney? 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  93 

SOPHIA. 
Or  me  of  contaminating  the  virtue  of  Miss  Carolina 


[Sobs  overcome  her.     The  rest  conclude  for  her.'] 

ALL. 

Wilhelmina  Amelia  Skeggs ! 

[A  light  suddenly  breaks  on  MR.  BIRCHELL,  and  lie 
laughs  uncontrollably,  to  the  horror  of  all.~\ 

VICAR. 
Wretch !     My  cloth  forbids  me  to  avenge  this  outrage ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Oh,  that  my  son  George  were  here  to  chastise  you  as  you 
deserve ! 

[GEORGE  outside,  gaily  shouts.~\ 

GEORGE. 

What,  ho!     Father — mother — sisters — brothers! 
[Entering,  ragged  and  travel-stained.'] 

THE  PRIMROSES. 
George ! — Welcome !     Welcome ! 
[They  embrace  him.'] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

You  come  in  the  nick  of  time,  my  son !  Yon  perjured 
ingrate  has  outraged  hospitality — traduced,  slandered,  ma 
ligned  your  family! 

[GEORGE  pauses  in  the  act  of  shaking  hands  with  MR. 
BURCHELL.] 


94  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKE  FIELD 

GEORGE. 

What  is  this!  Never  mind  particulars!  An  insult  to 
the  honour  of  my  family !  Choose  your  weapons,  sir ! 

MR.   BURCHELL. 

Fudge ! 

[All  exclaim. ~\ 

GEORGE. 
How?    A  poltroon,  as  well  as  ingrate? 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

My  boy,  I  could  have  you  clapped  into  jail  for  duel 
ling  ! — While  as  for  those  who  have  broken  open  my  pocket- 
book — a  sealed  letter — Don't  you  know  that  all  I  have  to  do 
is  to  swear  against  you  at  the  next  Justice's,  and  I  could 
hang  you  all  up  at  the  door! 

{Horrified  exclamation  from  all."\ 

MOSES. 
He's  in  the  right !    Such  is  the  law ! 

[DiCK  and  BILL  run  to  MR.  BURCHELL  and  fall  on 
their  knees  before  him,  clasping  him,  crying.'} 

DICK  AND  BILL. 
Oh,  dear,  kind  Mr.  Burchell!     Please  don't  hang  us! 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

[A  hand  on  the  head  of  each.]  Bless  your  curly  heads ! 
Hang  you? — Fudge! 

\He  goes  out  hurriedly.     The  PRIMROSES  exchange 
amazed  glances,  as  if  the  situation  defied  expres- 


THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD  95 

sion.  OLIVIA  and  SOPHIA  ruefully  unpack  the 
trunk.  GEORGE  seizes  a  hunk  of  bread  from  the 
table  and  eats  ravenously.'] 

VICAR. 

You  have  not  made  your  fortune,  then,  my  son  ? 

GEORGE. 

Not  yet,  sir! — I  boarded  a  ship  to  Amsterdam  with  a 
view  to  teaching  English  to  the  Dutch.  I  felt  they  would 
love  it  to  distraction !  Accordingly  I  offered  my  services 
to  every  intelligent-appearing  person  I  met  with  in  the 
streets. — In  vain!  No  one  understood  me! 
[The  others  show  some  amused  interest.'] 

MOSES. 

And  then? 

GEORGE. 

After  many  experiments  I  became  usher  in  a  school! 
Up  early  in  the  morning — browbeat  by  the  mistress,  tor 
mented  by  the  boys ! — Can  you  dress  hair  ?  Have  you  the 
stomach  of  an  ostrich?  Can  you  sleep  three  in  a  bed? 
Then  you  won't  do  for  usher  in  a  school !  May  I  die  by 
an  anodyne  necklace,  but  I'd  rather  be  under-turnkey  in 
Newgate  than  usher  in  a  school! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
My  poor  boy !    But  don't  give  up  hope ! 

GEORGE. 
Hope,  mother?    No  one  was  ever  born  with  a  better 


96  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

knack  of  hoping !  To-morrow  I  again  set  forth  to  conquer 
London,  in  the  name  of  the  beautiful  Miss  Wilmot — but, 
first,  I  will  get  you  to  set  a  stitch  or  so  in  these ! 

[Shows  his  rags.     MRS.  PRIMROSE  laughs,  and  leads 

GEORGE  off  into  the  bedroom,  R.  2.     SOPHIA  sadly 

carries  off  a  bundle   of  clothes   from  the   trunk. 

MOSES  takes  his  coat  off,  gets  milking  cans,  and 

goes.} 

VICAR. 

[Puts  on  his  hat,  takes  his  Bible,  and  goes,  R.  1.]     I 
have  a  sick  parishioner  to  visit. — I'll  be  back  soon ! 
[He  goes  out.     The  two  children  follow  him.'] 

OLIVIA. 

[Alone,  kneeling  by  the  trunk,  buries  her  face  in  hands.} 
"When  lovely  woman  stoops  to  folly" — Heigh  ho! 

SQUIRE. 
[Looks  in  at  the  window.    Echoes  her.}    Heigh  ho ! 

OLIVIA. 

[Looks  up,  rises.}     Ned! 
[Squire  leaps  in,  meets  her.    They  embrace.} 

SQUIRE. 
Why  weeps  my  pretty  one? 

OLIVIA. 

You  ask?     Do  you  not  know  that  my  sister  and  I  go 
not  to  town  with  your  cousins? 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  97 

SQUIRE. 
Was  your  heart  so  set  on  London? 

OLIVIA. 
Only  because — because  of 

SQUIRE. 
Eanelagh,  Vauxhall,  the  playhouses? 

OLIVIA. 

No,  no!  You — !  I  cannot  bear  the  thought  of  part 
ing! 

SQUIRE. 
Nor  I! 

OLIVIA. 

But  you  will  go  away!  What  attraction  can  the  coun 
try  hold  for  you,  come  winter? 

SQUIRE. 

I  mean  to  carry  my  attraction  with  me !  'Tis  for  that 
I  am  come! 

[Opens  arms  to  her.'] 

OLIVIA. 

Ned !    What  mean  you  ? — Oh,  oh !    For  shame ! 

SQUIRE. 

My  good  girl,  what  can  I  do  ?  My  fortunes  are  depen 
dent  wholly  on  the  pleasure  of  my  uncle,  Sir  William 
Thornhill,  who  insists  on  my  paying  my  addresses  to  an 
heiress ! 


98  THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD 

OLIVIA. 
Then  it  is  true! — Oh,  go,  go! 

SQUIRE. 
Then  you  do  not  love  me  ? 

OLIVIA. 

I — I  love  you.     But — without  honour — Oh,  sir! 
[Buries  face  in  hands,  cries.] 

SQUIRE. 

Oh,  curse  these  scruples!  Olivia,  my  sweet. — Damn 
virtue ! 

OLIVIA. 

No  more,  Mr.  Thornhill !  Pray  go  before — my  father — 
mother — oh,  the  shame  of  it! 

SQUIRE. 

[Wrapping  her  cloak  about  her.~\  My  own  virtuous 
girl,  I  did  but  try  you !  Come !  I  know  a  priest  who'll 
wed  us  secretly. 

OLIVIA. 

Wed  us  ?  Oh,  sir !  Ned,  dearest !  But — I  will  be  wed 
by  no  priest  but  my  own  father! 

SQUIRE. 

Then  you'll  never  be  wed  to  me !     Never,  I  tell  you,  un 
less  we  keep  it  secret  till  'tis  done! — Very  good,  then! 
I'll  be  off  to  my  heiress ! 
\Ma~kes  to  go.~\ 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  99 

OLIVIA. 
Oh,  Heaven ! — Ned,  Ned !     I  love  you  so — I'll  e'en  do 

as  you  say.    Oh,  father,  mother,  forgive 

[SQUIRE  hurries  her  out,  by  the  door,  rear,  as  MOSES, 
preceded  by  a  clanking  of  milk  pails,  enters,  R.  1, 
GEORGE  renewed  as  to  attire,  enters  from  the  bed 
room  with  MRS.  PRIMROSE  and  SOPHIA,  R.  2.  The 
VICAR  enters,  R.  1,  takes  off  his  hat,  lays  down  his 
Bible,  and  mends  the  fire.  MRS.  PRIMROSE  goes 
to  the  window,  claps  her  hands  and  calls.'} 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
[Calling.']     Children !    Children ! — Come  to  tea ! 

[SOPHIA  lights  the  candles.  The  children  come  run 
ning  in,  rear.  The  family  sit  at  table.} 

VICAR. 

[Lifting  hand.}     Let  us  give  thanks  to — but  where  ia 
Olivia? 

[All  look  about,  wondering.} 

DICK. 

Sister  Livy  went  off 

[Suddenly  claps  his  hand  before  his  mouth.} 

BILL. 

She  went  off  with 

[Claps  his  hand  before  his  mouth.} 

VICAR. 

Children!    What  mean  you? 

DICK. 
He  bade  us  not  tell ! 


100  THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD 

VlCAE. 

Come  hither!  Who  bade  you?  Answer  as  before  your 
God  I 

DICK  AND  BILL. 
The  Squire! 

DICK. 
He  carried  sister  Livy  off  in  a  postchaise ! 

BILL. 

She  was  crying! 

[Exclamation  of  horror  from  all.  The  VICAR  quietly 
rises,  and  takes  his  hat  and  staff.  GEORGE  and 
MOSES  go  to  him.] 

GEORGE. 
Sir,  trust  me  to  avenge  this  wrong! 

MOSES. 
Father — let  me  go  in  your  stead! 

[The  VICAR  shakes  his  head,  then  after  a  pause, 
speaks.'} 

VICAR. 

Nay,  for  then  I  might  also  lose  a  son.  [J.  hand  on  the 
shoulder  of  each.] '  You,  George,  go  seek  your  fortune, 
and  you,  Moses,  guard  the  home  till  my  return.  I  will 
go  find  my  daughter.  [His  voice  breaks;  a  slight  pause.] 
But  first,  let  us  pray ! 

[All,  sobbing  quietly,  Jcneel,  and  bow  their  heads.  The 
VICAR  opens  the  Bible,  and  lifts  his  hand.] 

CURTAIN — END  OF  ACT  III. 


ACT  IV 


ACT  IV 

Evening.    A  few  weeks  after  Act  III.    A  plain  room  in  a 
wayside  public  house.    At  the  back  a  door  to  the  bar. 
On  the  left  a  door  to  the  interior  of  the  house.   On 
the  right,  a  window,  a  fireplace  with  fire.    Else 
where  are  sideboard  with  glasses,  pewter,  etc.,  and 
a  table  with  writing  materials  of  the  period,  and 
chairs.     On  the  walls  are  framed  prints,  also  a 
looJcing-glass. 

DISCOVERED:    LANDLORD  ushering  in  the  VICAR,  who  looks 
tired  and  travel-worn. 

LANDLORD. 
What  will  your  Honour  be  pleased  to  order? 

VICAR. 

[Talcing  off  his  cloak,  etc.~\    A  room  for  the  night — and 
mine  host's  company  over  a  pint  of  wine! 

LANDLORD. 

[Bustles  off,  rear.']     Yes,  sir.     Thank  you,  sir! 

VICAR. 
[Warming  hands.]     Olivia — Olivia! 

LANDLORD. 

[Enters  from  the  bar  with  bottle,  and  gets  glasses  from 

103 


104  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

the  sideboard.]     Your  honour  will  have  travelled  far  to 
day? 

VICAR. 

This  inn  being  on  the  road  to  the  races — I  suppose 
many  gay  parties  stop  here? 

LANDLORD. 

Well  may  you  say  so,  sir.     We  have  all  kinds,  at  the 
Sign  of  the  Harrow! 

VICAR. 

[Pledging  him.']    Your  good  health ! 

LANDLORD. 

And  yours,  sir.    Thank  you,  sir !    As  I  was  saying 


VICAR. 

And  bridal  couples?  For  instance,  a  man,  young,  fa 
voured  of  fortune — a  profligate  heart  masked  by  every 
charm  of  person  and  address.  The  girl,  nineteen,  beauti 
ful,  high-spirited — innocent ? 

LANDLORD. 

[Scratches  his  head.]  Well,  no,  sir.  I  can't  exactly 
say 

LANDLADY. 

[Calling  at  the  door,  outside,  on  the  left.]   Mr.  Symonds 
Mr.  Symonds 

LANDLORD. 
My  wife! 


THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD  105 

LANDLADY. 

As  usual,  soaking  with  the  guests  while  the  house  is 
going  out  of  window ! 

LANDLORD. 

Yes,  my  dear!     Coming,  coming [Pauses  to  finish 

wine.]     I  just  was  waiting  on  a  guest! 
[Runs  off  at  the  left.'} 

VICAR. 

The  same  story.    No  one  has  seen  her! 

[He  sits  before  the  fire,  his  head  bowed  in  his  hands. 
GEORGE,,  neatly  but  poorly  attired,  enters  from  the 
bar,  and  looks  about.  Seeing  the  VICAR'S  back  Tie 
addresses  him,  with  a  slightly  theatric  manner.'] 

GEORGE. 

Your  pardon,  venerable  sir,  if  I  interrupt  a  learned 
revery.  I  solicit  your  patronage  for  a  performance  to 
night  of  that  dramatic  masterpiece  "  The  Fair  Penitent," 
the  part  of  Horatio  to  be  undertaken  by  a  young  gentleman 

who  has  never  before  appeared  upon  the  stage 

[The  VICAR  has  recognised  GEORGE  at  beginning  of 
this  speech,  but  listens  with  interest  to  the  close, 
then  turns.'] 

VICAR. 
George ! 

GEORGE. 

[Amazed,  embracing  the  FICAR.]  Father! — Any  news 
of  my  sister? 


106  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

VICAR. 

None!  None;  none!     But  Olivia  is  my  care.     About 
yourself  ?    Any  signs  of  fortune  ? 
[Motioning  him  to  take  wine.'] 

GEORGE. 

[Helping  himself  to  wine.']  Signs,  sir?  Aye;  signs  of 
the  most  glowing  description — though,  so  far,  nothing  but 
signs !  Arrived  again  in  London  I  fell  in  with  an  agent, 
who,  in  return  for  my  last  half  guinea,  promised  me 
a  position  in  America  as  Secretary  to  an  embassy  from 
the  synod  of  Pennsylvania  to  the  Chickasaw  Indians.  My 
heart  beating  high  with  hope,  I  was  about  to  embark  in 
the  name  of  the  beautiful  Miss  Wilmot,  when  by  chance 
I  learned  that  myself  and  my  companions  were  being  trans 
ported  to  America,  there  to  be  sold  as  slaves ! 

VlCAH. 

Horrible ! 

GEORGE. 

Stung  with  the  indignity,  I  was  looking  about  me  for 
any  gulf  that  might  be  yearning  to  receive  me,  when  I  fell 
in  with  a  company  of  strolling  players  who  were  seeking 
someone  to  replace  one  of  their  number  who  had  fallen 
ill.  While  acting  is  not  learned  in  a  day,  I,  they  declared, 
was  born  to  tread  the  stage !  The  manager  swears  he  has 
never  seen  any  one  who  bids  so  fair  to  excel !  Where  ex 
perience  in  emotional  expression  fails  me,  he  bids  me  shrug 
— as  thus!  Or  behave  as  if  convulsed  with  a  fit  of  the 
gripes !  [He  illustrates.  The  VICAR  smiles.']  But  I  must 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  107 

off  to  the  playhouse,  which  in  this  instance    consists  of 
our  landlord's  barn! 

VICAR. 
Good  luck,  my  lad ! 

GEORGE. 

I  thank  you,  sir — in  the  name  of  the  beautiful  Miss 
Wilmot ! 

[Theatric  exit,  left.  A  commotion  is  heard  outside 
the  window,  in  which  are  distinguished  the  voices  of 
DR.  WILMOT  and  ARABELLA.] 

DR.  WILMOT. 
[Angrily  calling.']    Here,  you  landlord ! 

LANDLORD. 
[Outside.]    Coming,  your  Honour ! 

VICAR. 

[Looking  from  the  window.']  What  is  this  I  see:  a 
chaise  broken  down — with  my  old  friend  Dr.  Wilmot,  and 
my  son's  mistress,  the  lovely  Arabella ! 

LANDLORD. 
[Opening  the  door,  at  the  rear.]    In  here,  your  Honour  ? 

DR.  WILMOT. 

Certainly  not,  sirrah  !  A  private  room  for  us — the  best 
in  the  house! 

LANDLORD. 

Of  course,  your  Honour!  This  way,  your  Honour! 
Wife,  attend  the  young  lady ! 


108  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

[The  LANDLORD,  LANDLADY,  DR.  WILMOT  and  ARA 
BELLA  are  heard  going  upstairs,  at  the  left.  ARA 
BELLA  saying,  "Oh,  la,  what  an  escape!"  etc.,  and 
DR.  WILMOT  cursing  the  postilions,  etc.] 

VICAR. 

[Relieved.']  Thank  Heaven  I  do  not  have  to  meet  them ! 
How  could  I  face  them  with  this  load  of  shame ! — Olivia ! 
Olivia ! 

LANDLORD. 

[Enters,  bustling,  from  the  left.']  I  believe  I  was  about 
to  drink  your  Honour's  health  when 

VICAR. 
[Indicating  the  wine.']     Help  yourself! 

LANDLORD. 

Thank  you,  sir!  That  gentleman  who  just  arrived — 
Dr.  Wilmot,  a  clergyman — high  temper,  sir!  His  daugh 
ter,  a  beauty  and  a  fortune. 

[Speaking  while  pouring  out  the  wine.  He  bows  to 
the  VICAR  and  dririks.~] 

DR.  WILMOT. 

[Calls  very  loud,  outside  on  the  left.~]  Landlord !  Is 
there  no  making  any  one  hear ! 

LANDLORD. 

[Bustling  to  the  door  at  the  leftJ]  Yes,  sir !  Coming, 
your  Honour ! 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  109 

DR.  WILMOT. 

[Very  loud,  outside,  left.']  When  Squire  Thornhill  ar 
rives,  announce  him  to  us  instantly! 

LANDLORD. 

Yes,  sir!     Thank  you,  sir! 

VICAR. 
[Overhearing,  agitated,  starts  up.'}     Squire  Thornhill! 

Then  it  is  true [Stops  the  LANDLORD,  who  is  going 

out.]     Another  glass  of  wine  with  me,  good  friend! 

LANDLORD. 

Why,  now,  sir — Thank  you,  sir ! 
[Pouring  the  wine.] 

VICAE. 

You  were  saying,  Dr.  Wilmot,  and  his  daughter — they 
are  expecting  some  one? 

LANDLORD. 

The  young  lady's  future  husband,  sir.  He  is  to  meet 
them  here  and  ride  on  with  them  to  pay  a  round  of 
visits  to  their  grand  relations. 

VlCAH. 

And  his  name  is ? 

LANDLORD. 

His  name  ? — Your  Honour's  good  health ! 
[Drinks.] 


110  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

DR.  WILMOT. 

[Very  loud,  outside.']     Landlord!     Egad,  if  that  varlet 
does  not  bring  me  hot  water 

LANDLORD. 
Yes,  sir!     Coming,  sir! 

[The  sound  of  horse's  hoofs  is  heard  in  the  court 
yard.'] 

SQUIRE  THORNHILL. 
[Calls  outside.]     What  ho !     Boy ! 

LANDLORD. 

7Tis  he  now,  sir!     Mr.  Thornhill! 
[Bustling,  opens  the  door,  rear.] 

VICAR. 
Now  God  give  me  patience  to  endure  this! 

SQUIRE. 
[Outside.]     Is  there  no  one  to  attend  me  ? 

LANDLORD.  ' 

This   way,    Mr.   Thornhill!     In  here,   your   Honour! 
[The  SQUIRE,  in  riding  dress,  enters,  rear.] 

SQUIRE. 

I  see  hy  their  equipage  that  Dr.  and  Miss  Wilmot  are 
already  here! 

LANDLORD. 

Aye,  sir!    Their  compliments,  and  they  will  be  pleased 
to  have  you  join  them  so  soon  as  may  be. 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  111 

DR.  WILMOT. 

[Angrily  shouting,  outside.]  Does  that  blockhead  of  a 
landlord  want  his  skull  broken? 

LANDLORD. 

Yes,  sir !    Thank  you,  sir ! 
[Bustles  off  at  the  left.] 

SQUIRE. 

[Surveys  himself  in  the  looking-glass.]  A  trifle  travel- 
worn  and  fagged,  but — now  for  the  fair  Arabella! 

[As  he  goes  towards  the  left,  the  VICAR  intercepts 
him.] 

VICAR. 
Wait,  Mr.  Thornhill! 

SQUIRE. 

[Starts,  T}ut  recovers  his  self-control.]  Dr.  Primrose! 
This  encounter  is  unexpected  as  delightful!  But  what 
do  you  so  far  from  home? 

VICAR. 

[Not  noticing  the  SQUIRE'S  extended  hand.]  You 
ask?  You!  I  am  seeking  my  daughter!  Where  is  my 
daughter  ? 

SQUIRE. 
[Affecting  surprise.]  Your  daughter? 

VICAR. 
Olivia. 

SQUIRE. 
Why — where  should  Miss  Olivia  be  except  at  home  ? 


112  THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD 

VICAR. 
Home ! — You  took  her  from  her  home  and  us ! 

SQUIRE. 
I  ?    My  good  sir,  this  is  madness !     I  protest— 


LANDLORD. 

[At  the  door  on  the  left.~]     Pardon,  Mr.  Thornhill,  but 
Dr.  and  Miss    Wilmot  are  sitting  down  to  a  bit  of  supper 

and 

SQUIRE. 

My  homage  to  them,  and  'tis  neither  the  fault  of  eager 
ness  nor  of  my  appetite  that  I  am  not  with  them,  but 

LANDLORD. 

You  were  thrown  from  your  horse,  sir,  and  are  changing 
your  dress.    Quite  so,  sir.    Thank  you,  sir ! 
[He  disappears  at  the  left.'] 

SQUIRE. 

Gad,   Dr.    Primrose;   but    for  your   gray   hairs,   your 
cloth !     Come,  let  me  pass  without  more  ado ! 

VICAR. 
Not  till  you  have  answered  me.    Where  is  my  girl? 

SQUIRE. 

Now   strike  me  senseless  if   I   read  your  riddle !     If 
pretty  Miss  Livy  has  gone  astray  I'm  sorry  for  you  with 
all  my  heart!     But  why  fasten  the  blame  on  me? 
A 


THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD  113 

VICAR. 
Because  you  came  to  the  house  and 


SQUIRE. 

With  her  mother's  approbation,  encouragement,  paid  her 
a  few  trifling  attentions !  On  my  soul  I'm  sorry  for  you, 
Doctor,  but — Miss  Wilmot  is  waiting  for  me ! 

VICAR. 

Miss  Wilmot  can  spare  you,  sir!  Her  affections  are 
fixed,  not  on  you,  but  on  another — my  son  George ! 

SQUIRE. 

Preposterous  pretension!  A  charming  fellow  George, 
but  is  he  in  a  position  to  address  a  lady  of  Miss  Wilmot's 
expectations  ? 

VICAR. 

I  own  that  just  as  present  he  is  not.     However 


LANDLORD. 

[Appearing  on  the  left.']  Pardon,  Mr.  Thornhill,  but 
while  their  chaise  is  being  repaired  Dr.  and  Miss  Wilmot 
will  witness  a  performance  by  a  company  of  strolling 
players  in  the  barn — "The  Fair  Penitent" — the  part  of 
Horatio  to  be  taken  by  a  young  gentleman  who  has  never 
appeared,  upon  the  stage ! 

VICAR. 
My  poor  George ! 


114  THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD 

SQUIRE. 

Anon!  Anon!  I  am  detained  by  a  poor  petitioner — 
one  of  my  own  tenants! 

LANDLORD. 
I  made  them  some  such  excuse  in  your  name,  sir. 

SQUIRE. 

Gad,  you're  a  very  decent  fellow.    Here. 
[Gives  gold  to  the  LANDLORD.] 

LANDLORD. 
Aye,  sir.     Thank  your  Honour! 

[He  retreats,  left,  but  lingers  to  listen.'] 

SQUIRE. 

A  truce  to  this  folly.  Dr.  Primrose,  my  word  of  honour 
I  know  nothing  of  your  daughter.  What  more  can.  you  re 
quire  ? 

VICAR. 
Your  written  word,  sir ! 

SQUIRE. 
Oh,  if  that  be  all ! — Landlord,  writing  materials ! 

LANDLORD. 

[Bustling,  gets  the  writing  materials  from  the  side- 
looard  and  places  them  on  the  table.']  Yes,  sir ! 

[The  LANDLADY,  outside,  is  heard  scolding,  OLIVIA 
faintly  protesting. ~] 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  115 

LANDLADY. 

Out  upon  you!  Pack,  this  minute  with  a  sassarara! 
Infamous  piece  of  trumpery !  Out,  I  say,  or  I'll  give  thee 
a  mark  thou  won't  be  better  of  these  months ! 

OLIVIA. 
Oh,  madam !    Pity  an  unfortunate ! 

LANDLADY. 
Pity  on  such  as  you,  you  vile  creature !    Out  with  you ! 

VICAR. 
What  is  that? 

LANDLORD. 

My  wife,  sir,  disposing  of  a  young  woman  who  has  taken 
up  lodgings  here — but,  I  judge,  by  her  over-civility,  with 
out  cross  or  coin  to  bless  herself  with  I 

VlOAB. 

What  manner  of  young  woman 
[  Going  to  look,  rear.} 

SQUIRE. 

[Interposes,  looTcs.~\  It  is — It  is  Olivia!  [To  'himself, 
then  to  the  VICAR.]  Ha,  ha!  As  ill-favoured  a  bit  of 
baggage  as  ever  walked  the  earth — freckled,  pock-marked, 

limping,  squinting 

[The  LANDLORD  coughs  slightly,  as  if  to  say  "  There's 
more  in  this  than  would  appear!  "] 


116  THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD 

VlCAE. 

Poor  soul! 

SQUIRE. 

[To  LANDLORD.]  Nathless — Here!  Settle  her  reckon 
ing,  and  let  her  go  her  way  in  peace!  But  mention  not 
my  name,  or  I  shall  be  overrun  with  beggars  and  wan 
tons! 

VICAR. 

[Interposing,  as  the  LANDLORD  is  about  to  take  the 
money  from  the  SQUIRE.]  Nay.  Rather  let  me  be  the 
one  to  help  the  wretched  woman!  [Gives  the  money  to 
the  LANDLORD.]  Give  it  in  the  name  of  a  bereaved  father 
and  an  unfortunate  girl ! 

[LANDLORD  bows  and  goes  out.  rear.'} 

SQUIRE. 

[Sits  at  the  table,  and  writes.  To  himself,]  Gad,  what 
an  escape! 

LANDLORD. 

[Appears  at  the  rear.]  The  young  woman  prays  her 
blessing  on  your  Honour! 

[The  VICAR  bows.    The  LANDLORD  disappears.] 

SQUIRE. 

[Pushes  the  paper  toward  the  VICAR.]  There!  Does 
that  content  you? 

VICAR. 

[Reads  the  paper,  and  bows  in  slow  assent.]  We'll  have 
this  witnessed! 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  117 

SQUIRE. 

[Dashes  down  the  pen  impatiently. 1  Hang  your  punc 
tilios!  Is  there  no  end  to  this? 

[GEORGE,  outside  on  the  left,  is  heard  calling.~] 

GEORGE. 

Father!  Father!  [Enters  at  the  left.'}  Oh,  my  dear 
father ! 

VICAR. 
George!    In  the  nick  of  time.    But  why  this  distress? 

GEORGE. 

I  am  one  of  those  useless  objects  that  nature  designs  to 
be  thrown  into  her  lumber  room,  there  to  perish  in  ob 
scurity  ! — My  attitude  assumed — thus !  My  mouth  open 
to  deliver  Horatio's  opening  line  when — Lo !  In  the  front 
row  of  chairs  behold  the  beautiful  Miss  Wilmot!  The 
lady  shrieked  and  swooned — I  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears, 
and  attempted  to  leap  down  to  her  rescue — but  was  forcibly 
held  back  by  the  manager,  and  as  forcibly  warded  off  by 
her  angry  father! 

[The  SQUIRE  bursts  into  laughter.    GEORGE  recog 
nises  him.'] 

SQUIRE. 

Your  pardon,  George!  But,  curse  me  if  I  ever — Ho, 
ho,  ho! 

GEORGE. 

Mr.  Thornhill!  I  pass  over  the  insult  to  myself — but 
my  sister — Where 


118  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

SQUIEE. 

[Starts  up,  furious.']  Now  stab  me  if  I'll  stand  this ! 
First  the  old  man,  and  now  the  young. 

VICAR. 

[Interposing.']     George,  Mr.  Thornhill  pledges  his  word 
of  honour  that  he  knows  naught  of  our  beloved! 
[Holds  out  the  paper  to  GEORGE.] 

GEORGE. 

[Glances  at  it  with  a  sneer.]  Aye,  father!  His  word 
of  honour !  I  was  at  the  University  with  Mr.  Thornhill ! 
[Seizes  the  SQUIRE.]  Answer  me!  Or  I'll — 

DR.  WILMOT. 

[Outside,  rear.~]  Well,  now,  curse  it  all,  if  Mr.  Thorn- 
hill  despises  our  company 

ARABELLA. 
[Soothingly.']     Pray,  sir,  calm  yourself! 

GEORGE. 
Her  voice! 

SQUIRE. 
Curse  it,  let  me  go ! 

LANDLORD. 

[Appears  at  the  rear.~\  Pardon,  gentlemen — but  Dr. 
and  Miss  Wilmot  are  ready  to  depart ! 

SQUIRE. 
HI  join  them  forthwith! 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  119 

LANDLORD. 

Aye,  sir! 
[Disappears.'] 

SQUIRE. 
[Struggling  with  GEORGE.]      Here,  let  me  go! 

GEORGE. 

[Holding  the  SQUIRE,  as  he  goes,  rear.'}  We  all  will 
go — and  tell  Miss  Wilmot  Olivia's  story !  Come,  father ! 

SQUIRE. 

As  you  please !  Publish  the  story  of  your  sister's  shame 
— but  fasten  it  on  me,  and  'twill  be  interpreted  as  a  vile 
trick  to  promote  your  own  suit  at  my  expense ! 

VlCAB. 

He  is  in  the  right,  George! 

[Outside  is  heard  the  sound  of  coach  wheels  depart 
ing.'] 

LANDLORD. 

[Appears  at  the  rear.]  I  told  them  you'd  catch  up 
with  them,  sir! 

SQUIRE. 

You're    an    honest    knave!      [Throws  the  LANDLORD 
money.] 

LANDLORD. 
True,  sir!     Thank  you,  sir! 

[Picks  up  the  money  and  disappears.     GEORGE  has 
reluctantly  yielded.] 


120  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

SQUIRE. 

[Taking  his  hat  and  whip.]  George,  I  deceived  your 
father  for  his  own  heart's  sake — but  you  will  I  not  deceive ! 
— Olivia  wished  to  see  the  world.  She  left  home  with  me. 
{There  is  a  hasty  movement  from  GEORGE.  The  VICAR 
restrains  him.  The  SQUIRE  lifts  his  hand  to  stay  GEORGE.] 
Oh,  'twas  indiscreet — but  nothing  more!  I  loved  her — 
but  feared  to  displeasure  my  uncle  by  choosing  a  bride  not 
of  my  own  station.  However,  as  daily  my  passion  for 
her  increased,  I  should  have  defied  prudence,  interest — 

and  married  her — only 

[He  breaks  off,  as  if  unable  to  go  on  for  emotion.  The 
door  on  the  left  opens  softly  and  slowly,  and  OLIVIA 
ill,  worn,  and  poorly  clad,  enters  a  little  way,  as  if 
about  to  supplicate  forgiveness.  Seeing  the  scene 
in  progress  she  stands,  listening,  unseen  by  all.'] 


VICAH. 

[Tense    with    emotion    and    expectation.']      Only- 
Well? 


GEORGE. 
Proceed!     You  would  have  married  my  sister — only? 

SQUIRE. 
She  died  I 
[OLIVIA  starts,  horror-striolcen.'] 

VICAR. 
What — my  darling  Olivia  dead  ? 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  121 

GEORGE. 

My  sister  dead?  [The  SQUIRE  nods  yes,  with  bowed 
head.  OLIVIA  is  about  to  go  to  the  VICAR,  but  is  irreso 
lute.  GEORGE  speaks  fervently,  struggling  with  his  sobs.'] 
Dead !  Thank  God ! 

VlCAB. 

The  cup  is  bitter,  but,  aye!  Thank  God!  [OLIVIA 
gives  a  faint  cry,  as  of  a  wounded  animal  and  runs  off  at 
the  left.  All  turn,  but  see  nothing.]  What — I 

thought — I  heard ! 

GEORGE. 
'Tis  naught! 

[Goes  to  the  VICAR  and  embraces  him,  in  sorrowful  si 
lence.  The  SQUIRE  bows,  and  goes  out  at  the  rear. 
His  horse's  hoofs  are  heard,  galloping  off.] 

VICAR. 
God  bless  thee ! — To-morrow  I  go  home — home ! 

GEORGE. 

And  I'll  off  once  more  to  London,  in  the  name  of 

[Breaks  into  sobbing,  and  goes  out  at  the  back.  Moon 
light.  OLIVIA'S  song,  very  faint  and  ghostlike,  is 
heard.  The  VICAR  sits,  brooding.] 

VICAR. 
Home!     Without  my  darling!     [Listens.]     What! — I 

could  fancy — her  voice — the   little  song [He    beats 

time.    At  the  conclusion  he  breaks  down,  sobbing.]     Oh, 

God!     Thy    Will    be    done!     But [OLIVIA    enters, 

softly,  at  the  left,  and  stands  watching  the  VICAR.] — • 


122  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

shamed,  deserted,  I'd  rather  know  thee  living — hold  thee 

in  these  arms [OLIVIA  makes  a  slight  sound.     He 

loolcs  up,  and  sees  Tier,  but  is  unable  to  believe  her  in  the 
flesh.~\  Olivia — thy  phantom!  Ah,  dear  Heaven — cheat 
me  not! 

[OLIVIA  goes  to  him,  kneels  beside  him,  puts  his  hands 
upon  her  head,  as  if  entreating  forgiveness,  and 
clasps  his  ~knees.~\ 

OLIVIA. 
Father ! 

VICAE. 
My  child! 

CURTAIN — END  OF  ACT  IV. 


ACT  V 


ACT  V 

Scene  I,  a  prison  cell.  Scene  II,  outside  the  VICAR'S 
cottage.  A  few  weeks  after  Act  IV.  A  prison  cell, 
dimly  lighted  by  a  high,  grated  slit  of  a  window,  and 
furnished  only  with  a  truss  of  straw  for  a  bed.  A 
jug  for  water  stands  in  one  corner.  The  only  entrance 
is  a  grating  door  now  standing  open. 

DISCOVERED:  MRS.  PRIMROSE,  SOPHIA,  DICK  and  BILL, 
listening  and  weeping,  while  from  the  room  beyond 
issue  sounds  of  hooting,  groaning,  hissing  and  ribald 
laughter,  through  which  the  VICAR'S  calm  voice  is 
heard,  praying.  Enter  MOSES. 

MOSES. 

[Embraces  MRS.  PRIMROSE.]  Cheer  up,  mother !  See ! 
Here  are  my  week's  wages.  Good  Mr.  Flamborough  is 
giving  me  steady  employment ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Oh,  my  son! — But,  hearken — thy  father 


SOPHIA. 

Mother — mother — They  are  becoming  quieter!     Father 
is  winning  them  at  last ! 

[The  noise  has  died  down  somewhat.    All  listen.'] 

125 


126  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

VICAR. 

{Heard,  finishing  the  Lord's  Prayer.']  "On  earth  as  it 
is  in  Heaven — forever  and  ever.  Amen ! " 

[There  is  a  murmur  outside,  part  reverential,  part 
derisive.  The  VICAR  enters,  his  wig  askew,  his 
gown  in  disorder,  carrying  a  Prayer-book  and  Bible. 
His  aspect  is  serene,  benign.  All  run  to  greet  him, 
saying,  "Oh,  sir! — Oh,  father! — Oh,  papa!"  etc.'] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

Charles,  my  love ! — Oh,  how  shamefully  have  these  jail 
birds  used  my  husband. 

[Setting  the  VICAR'S  dress  right.'] 

VICAR. 

Nay,  my  dear.  On  the  whole  I  had  an  excellent  congre 
gation.  In  church  often  I  could  scarce  keep  my  hearers 
awake — but  I  encountered  no  such  difficulty  with  my  fel 
low-prisoners  !  [The  word  "  prisoners  "  causes  the  others 
to  weep  anew.~\  Well,  Moses,  and  how  have  you  fared? 

MOSES. 

Well,  sir.  Good  Mr.  Flamborough  will  employ  me  stead 
ily  at  liberal  wage — and  she  sends  you  these  delicacies 
with  her  love. 

[Showing  a  "basket  which  he  carries.'] 

VICAR. 
[Quizzically. ~]    She? 

MOSES. 

[Slightly  confused."]      Miss  Mollie  Flamborough! 
[All  laugh,  taxing  MOSES.] 


THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD  127 

VICAR. 
We  will  sup  on  them  with  grateful  hearts.     And  after 

that 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

[Interrupting,  with  a  sudden  idea.~]  Would  not  Mr. 
Flamborough  advance  the  money  to  pay  our  arrears  of 
rent? 

MOSES. 

It  seems  that  a  delegation  of  my  father's  parishioners, 
headed  by  our  good  neighbour  and  Farmer  Williams,  have 
already  waited  on  the  Squire,  offering  to  discharge  the 
debt — but,  in  vain !  Mr.  Thornhill  hath  his  own  sinister 
motives  for  keeping  my  father  a  prisoner! 

[MRS.  PRIMROSE  begins  to  storm  angrily.    The  VICAR 

soothes  her.~] 

It  is  thought  that  if  you  would  submit  yourself  to  the 
Squire,  make  no  further  demands  on  my  sister's  behalf, 
would  free  you! 

VICAR. 

What!  Cease  to  demand  justice  for  my  child!  Even 
though  it  was  but  a  mock  marriage,  with  which  the  vil 
lain  deceived  her,  to  Olivia  it  was  real,  binding.  Before 
God  she  is  his  wife,  and  so  shall  I  maintain  if  he  keeps 
me  in  prison  for  it  till  I  die! 

[MRS.  PRIMROSE  weeps  louder.'] 

Come,  love;  let  us  put  our  trust  in  the  Lord! — So,  my 
little  ones,  you  still  insist  on  sharing  your  father's  cell? 

DICK. 
I  will  not  leave  my  father! 


128  THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD 

BILL. 
Nor  I! 

[Each  child  takes  hold  of  a  hand  of  the  Vicar.} 

VlCAE. 

Then  it  seems  to  me  we  are  very  well  off! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Well  off,  forsooth!    In  prison! 

VlCAE. 

Our  minds  are  our  own,  and  free.  Our  souls  are  God's. 
At  least  we  enjoy  the  blessings  of  a  clear  conscience  and 
one  another's  love ! — But  where  is  my  darling  Olivia  ? 

SOPHIA. 

Sir,  my  sister  still  feels  herself  unable  to  join  our 
group. 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

[With  asperity.'}  Small  wonder!  After  the  disgrace 
she  hath  brought  on  us! 

VICAR. 

Wife !  This  pride  of  heart !  [Shakes  his  finger  at  MRS. 
PRIMROSE,  warningly.}  But,  come.  Let  us  give  an  hour 
to  recreation. 

MOSES. 

A  chapter  from  the  ancients!     On  philosophy! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
[With  a  gesture  of  disgust.}     Philosophy! 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  129 

DICK. 

The  ballad  of  Patient  Griselda ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
[Same  gesture.]    Patient !    Patience,  forsooth ! 

BILL. 
"Turn  Gentle  Hermit  of  the  Dale!" 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Bless  the  child,  'tis  forty  stanzas  long! 

SOPHIA. 

That  moving  fable  by  Mr.  Gay  that  Mr.  Burchell  read 
to  us,  about  two  lovers,  struck  by  lightning  in  each  other's 
arms ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
Marry!     Mr.  Burchell! 
[Enter  JENKINSON.] 

JENKINSON. 

Pardon  this,  intrusion,  sir — but  I  would  speak  with 
you! 

VICAR. 
[Inviting  him  in.]     Pray,  sir,  make  yourself  one  of  us ! 

JENKINSON. 
[Laughs  shamefacedly.]     I  doubt  I  am  worthy  of  that ! 

VICAR. 
I  refuse  my  company  to  no  man  who  desires  it,  sir. 


ISO  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

JENKINSON. 
Doctor — do  you  not  recall  me? 

VICAR. 

[Smiles  with  benignity.']  I  have  some  reason  to,  my 
friend.  The  first  day  I  attempted  to  preach  to  my  fellow- 
prisoners  you  spat  on  me.  The  second,  you  placed  an 
obscene  jest  book  between  these  sacred  pages.  The  third, 
you  picked  my  pocket  of  my  spectacles.  To-day  you  gave 
the  message  I  brought  your  reverend  attention! 
[Hand  out  to  JENKINSON.] 

JENKINSON. 

[Hangs  Ms  head,  not  taking  VICAR'S  hand."]  Sir — I  am 
your  penitent !  But  we  met  for  the  first  time  some  months 
since,  when  you  sold  me  a  wall-eyed  horse  in  exchange  for 
a  false  note!  [The  VICAR  exclaims,  amazed.  JENKIN 
SON  turns  to  MOSES.]  And  you,  young  master,  I  cozened 
out  of  a  tailless  colt,  for  a  gross  of  worthless  green  specta 
cles! 

[All  exclaim,  amazed.] 

VICAR. 

But — it  was  a  venerable  man 


MOSES. 
Dressed  as  a  clergyman. 

[JENKINSON  laughs,  sheepishly.] 

JENKINSON. 
Ever  my  most  fetching  disguise! 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  131 

VICAR. 

I  forgive  your  past  rascality  for  your  present  honesty! 
[They  shake  hands.] 

MOSES. 
But — how  came  you  to  select  me  as  your  dupe  ?    Me ! 

JENKINSON. 

My  lad,  any  sharper  would  have  picked  you  out  as  the 
easiest  of  marks,  the  mother's  darling  that  you  were,  with 
your  broad  black  riband,  and  waistcoat  of  gosling  green! 
[All  laugh  at  MOSES.]  But,  to  my  errand.  The  jailer, 
who  is  the  most  humane  of  his  kind  that  ever  I  have  met, 
asks  a  favour  of  you — to  share  your  cell  with  a  young  man 
to  whom  prison  is  a  new  experience ! 

VICAB. 
By  all  means! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

[Indignantly.]  What!  Share  your  wretched  accom 
modations  with  a  jail-bird ! 

VICAR. 
My  love,  what  am  I! — Bid  the  young  man  join  us, 

Mr. 

JENKINSON. 

[Supplying     name.']      Ephraim     Jenkinson — at     your 
service. 
[Exit. 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

My  love,  you  carry  complaisance  too  far!  Wretched 
as  is  our  present  state,  when  our  son  George  returns  from 
the  West  Indies  with  a  fortune 


132  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

[A  clank  of  chains  is  heard.    JENKINSON  ushers  in 
GEORGE,  manacled.    All  exclaim,  breathlessly.'] 

GEORGE. 
[With  eyes  cast  down.']     Oh,  sir,  pardon  an  unfortunate 

ALL. 
George ! 

GEORGH. 

[Looks  up,  recognises  them.~\  What!  Father — 
mother !  Here ! 

[They  all  embrace  him.] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
My  boy!     Then  you  are  not  on  the  road  to  fortune? 

GEORGE. 

Aye,  mother ! — On  the  road !  Ever  on  the  road ! 
Meanwhile — [He  tries  to  take  some  food  from  the  basket, 
but  is  unable  because  of  his  shackles.  MRS.  PRIMROSE 
feeds  him.  He  speaks  with  his  mouth  full.]  After  leav 
ing  you,  sir,  at  the  Sign  of  the  Harrow,  I  went  to  London. 
I  had  always  thought  highly  of  the  Muses,  so  I  tried  my 
hand  at  literature.  I  took  up  my  pen 

VICAE. 
In  defence  of  monogamy,  I  trust ! 

GEORGE. 

Hardly,  sir,  since  I  saw  no  prospect  of  my  ever  having 
even  one  wife!  [All  give  a  slight  laugh.]  No.  I  poured 
out  my  soul  in  poetry,  only  to  find  that  it  spells  starvation ! 


THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD  133 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
My  poor  boy ! 

[Feeds  him  again.'] 

GEORGE. 

Accordingly  I  prepared  to  embark  for  the  West  Indies, 
in  a  beloved  named.     But  before  leaving  England  I  felt 
that  I  must  strike  one  blow  for  the  honour  of  the  family. 
Accordingly,  I  sent  a  challenge  to  Mr.  Burchell ! 
[All  exclaim.'] 

SOPHIA 
But — why? 

GEORGE. 

For  the  infamous  epistle  in  which  he  slandered  you  and 
£>oor  Olivia. 

SOPHIA. 

George — we  misread  that  letter.  Those  two  creatures 
whom  we  took  for  ladies  of  quality — their  names  were 

not 

ALL. 

[Supplying  the  names.']  Lady  Blarney  and  Miss  Caro 
lina  Wilhelmina  Amelia  Skeggs. 

SOPHIA. 

They  were  two  vile  women  of  the  town.  It  was  our 
simplicity  which  that  noble  gentleman  would  not  suffer  to 
be  imposed  upon,  our  virtue  he  would  not  see  contami 
nated  ! 

GEORGE. 

How  I  have  wronged  him !  How  gladly  would  I  proffer 
him  this  hand — [Holds  out  his  manacled  hands.']  But,  in 
vain!  My  challenge  miscarried.  I  found  myself  com- 


134  THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD 

mitted  for  attempted  duelling,  by  order  of  Sir  William 
Thornhill !  [All  exclaim  with  sympathy.']  But  why,  sir, 
are  you  here  ? 

VICAR. 

A  short  tale,  and  shorter  shrift.  Imprimis,  Mr.  Thorn- 
hill  lied  to  us. 

GEORGE. 
To  you,  sir — but  to  me — oh,  hardly ! 

VICAR. 
To  both !     Your  sister  lives. 

GEORGE. 
Olivia!— Thank  God! 

ALL. 
Amen! 

VlCAE. 

The  villain  deceived  her  with  a  mock  marriage.  Fear 
ing  that  I  should  expose  him  to  his  uncle,  Sir  William 
Thornhill,  who  had  returned  to  England,  he  took  advan 
tage  of  some  slight  arrears  of  rent  to  have  his  steward 
drive  our  cattle,  and  cast  me  into  gaol,  here  to  languish 
while  his  marriage  with  Miss  Wilmot  takes  place.  This 
is  their  wedding  day! 

GEORGE. 

[Burst  of  tears.]     Good  heavens! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
There,  there,  love! 
[Offers  to  feed  him.] 

GEORGE. 

N"ay,  mother !  Let  me  starve  to  death !  In  the  name  of 
the  beautiful — Miss  Wil 


THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD  135 

ushers  in  ARABELLA  in  bridal  array.'} 

ARABELLA. 
George ! 

GEORGE. 
What !    Do  my  senses  play  me  false,  or 

ARABELLA. 
George ! — I  fear  this  is  unmaidenly,  but 

GEORGE. 

Arabella!     Come   to  these   arms — [Tries  to  open   his 
arms.] — I  mean,  this  breast! 
[They  embrace.'] 

DR.  WILMOT. 

[Is  heard  approaching,  in  a  rage.~\  Where  is  that 
shameless  hussy ! — Where 

ARABELLA. 

[Shrieks.]  Oh,  lud!  Papa! — I  am  undone! — Protect 
me,  George! 

[DR.  WILMOT  enters.] 

DR.  WILMOT. 

Where  are  you,  Miss  ! — Unhand  her,  sirrah ! — Let  go, 
Miss!  [Seizes  ARABELLA.]  On  the  way  to  the  church! 
Zounds,  I've  twenty  minds  to 

ARABELLA. 

[Clinging  to  GEORGE.]  Papa,  even  the  crushed  worm 
will  turn ! 

DR.  WILMOT. 
Aye,  but  you're  not  a  worm;  you're  my  daughter!  and 


136  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

you're  only  crushed  by  hugging  that  penniless  young  fool ! 
Here,  you  come  with  me,  or 

ARABELLA. 
Papa!    I  tell  you  I  do  not  love  Mr.  Thornhill! 

DR.  WILMOT. 

Gadzooks,  Miss,  you  will  love  him !     I  insist  on  it !     If 
you  don't  come  peaceably  and  wed  the  husband  of  my 
choosing,  voluntarily,  I'll  get  an  order  from  Sir  William 
Thornhill  to  have  you  put  in  the  stocks! 
[ARABELLA  shrieks.] 

GEORGE. 
Oh,  heaven,  sir  1    This  is  too  cruel ! 

VICAE. 
Dr.  Wilmot,  pray,  forbear ! 

DR.  WILMOT. 

Oh,     Charles     Primrose — Charles     Primrose — this     all 
springs  from  your  absurd  adherence  to  Monogamy ! 

[All  talk  at  the  same  time.    JENKLNSON  ushers  in 
MR.  BURCHELL.] 

MR.  BURCHELL. 
Good  morrow,  friends ! 

[All  exclaim  with  surprise.'] 

DR.  WILMOT. 

[Overjoyed.']     The   man    and   the  hour!     I  was    just 
about  to  seek  you,  to 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  137 

MR.   BURCHELL. 

[Checks  DR.  WILMOT.]  A  moment,  Doctor,  before  we 
undo  this  coil.  Provided  she'll  have  me,  may  I  take  this 
young  woman  to  wife  ?  {Indicates  SOPHIA.] 

VICAR. 

[Takes  SOPHIA'S  ~hand.~\  I  could  not  give  her  more 
willingly. 

[MR.  BURCHELL  turns  to  MRS.  PRIMROSE,  as  if  asking 
her  opinion.'] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 

[Grudgingly.]  Well,  sir;  seeing  what  we  have  sunk  to, 
I  fear  the  poor  girl  won't  get  a  better  chance ! 

[MR.  BDRCHELL  smiles,  and  tucks  SOPHIA'S  hand  un 
der  his  arm.'] 

MR.  BURCHELL. 
Now  to  this  pair  of  lovers. 

\_Indicates     GEORGE     and     ARABELLA.     JENKINSON 
ushers  in  the  SQUIRE  in  wedding  attire.~\ 

SQUIRE. 

Dr.  Wilmot,  Miss  Wilmot !  What  means  this  ?  On  my 
way  to  the  church  I  received  a  summons  to  meet  you  here 
— here,  of  all  places  for  a  love  tryst!  [Suddenly  per 
ceives  MR.  BURCHELL,  and  starts  with  frightened  surprise.] 
Good  God,  sir!  You? 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

[Nods  assent.]  'Twas  I  who  sent  for  you!  Ned,  do 
you  love  Miss  Wilmot? 


138  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

SQUIRE. 

I  protest,  sir 

MR.  BURCHELL. 
No  evasions !     Suppose  her  penniless 


SQUIRE. 

[With  a  slight,  sneering  laugh.]     As,  in  a  way,  she  is, 
sir.     Last  night,  according  to  legal  forms,  her  wealth  was 
transferred  to  my  custody!     I  shall  not  hesitate  to  claim 
it,  whether  she  comes  to  church  with  me  or  not. 
[Exclamation  from  all.] 

DR.  WILMOT. 
[Threatening  SQUIRE  with  his  stick.']     Of  all  hardened 

villains • 

[He  choices,  unable  to  finish.'] 

GEORGE. 

My  own !     If  possible  I  love  thee  a  thousand  times  bet 
ter  penniless! 

DR.  WILMOT. 

Then  take  her,  sir! — As  for  you,  Ned  Thornhill 

[Again  threatening.] 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

One  moment,  Dr.  Wilmot.     Jenkinson,  you  have  a  word 
to  say,  I  think. 

JENKINSON. 

[In  the  manner  of  one  paying  old  scores.]     That  con 
veyance  of  Miss  Wilmot's  fortune  is  not  worth  the  parch- 


THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD  139 

ment   'tis   writ    on,   Squire.     [All   turn    to   JENKINSON, 
eagerly.]     You  already  have  a  wife ! 
[General  exclamation.] 

SQUIEE. 
[Hurriedly.  ]     Sirrah !     Explain ! 

JENKINSON. 

Aye.  She  that  was  Miss  Olivia  Primrose. — 'Twas  no 
mockery,  that  ceremony !  To  pay  off  some  old  scores,  I 
thought  to  have  a  whip  over  you,  so  fetched  a  real  priest ! 

MRS.  PRIMEOSE. 
Then  my  girl  is  an  honest  woman ! 

JENKINSOK. 
As  ever  book  and  ring  could  make  one ! 

[The  PRIMROSES  show  devout  thankfulness,  which  is 
also  showed  by  ARABELLA.] 

SQUIRE. 
Hm! 

[He  shows  a  conflict  of  emotions,  walking  to  one  side 
of  the  cell,  and  standing  in  thought,  his  face  turned 
to  the  wall.'] 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

[To  the  others,  in  a  subdued  tone.]  Hst!  I'll  test 
him! — Whatever  I  say,  contradict  me  not!  [The  others 
assent  by  sign,  and  listen  interestedly.  MR.  BURCHELL 
walks  toward  the  SQUIRE.]  But,  never  fear,  Ned.  Thy 


140  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

matrimonial  fetters  need  not  bind  thee ! — Wed  whom  thou 
desirest ! — Olivia  is  dead ! 

[All  start,  as  if  to  contradict.  ME.  BUECHELL  mo 
tions  them  to  silence.] 

SQUIEE. 

[Turns  slowly  toward  ME.  BUECHELL.]  Nay,  sir! — I 
but  said  it  for  a  purpose ! 

[OLIVIA,  ushered  by  JENKINSON,  appears  at  the  en 
trance  and  stands  there,  listening,  seen  by  all  ex 
cept  the  SQUIEE.] 

ME.  BUECHELL. 

As  you  thought !  But  grief  and  shame  have  done  their 
fatal  work ! — The  innocent  victim  of  your  profligacy,  your 
wife  Olivia  is  no  more! 

SQUIEE. 

[Looks  at  him,  as  if  to  say,  "  Is  this  true  ?  "  MR.  BUE 
CHELL  bows  as  if  to  say,  "  It  is  true!  "  The  SQUIRE  bursts 
into  sudden  tears.']  Oh! — God,  forgive  me! — I  loved 
her ! — Olivia ! 

OLIVIA. 
[Going  to  him.~\     Ned! 

[The  SQUIRE  turns,  and  seeing  her,  gives  a  glad  cry. 
Theiy  embrace  silently.  The  others  weep.~\ 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

[With  a  sudden,  cheerful  change  of  tone.]  But,  come! 
This  is  no  time  for  tears !  My  good  Jenkinson,  inform  the 
jailor  that  I  have  ordered  a  festive  dinner  for  the  prison 
ers.  Meanwhile  these  two  captives  are  released. 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  141 

JENKINSON. 
[Bowing  low.']     Aye,  your  Lordship! 

[The  PRIMROSES  have  shown  amazement  all  along,  at 
MR.  BURCHELL'S  assumption  of  authority.  They 
now  exclaim  with  undisguised  curiosity.'] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
But — prithee,  sir,  who  are  you  to  work  such  wonders? 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

Dear  madam,   just    a   philosopher,  and   your  humble 
servant ! 

DR.  WILMOT. 

[Agape  at  MRS.  PRIMROSE'S  question.]     Why,  bless  my 
soul ;  who  but — my  old  friend 

SQUIRE. 
My  uncle — 

JENKINSON. 
Sir  William  Thornhill! 

[Amazed  exclamations  from  the  PRIMROSES.  MRS. 
PRIMROSE  makes  an  abject  curtsey  to  MR.  BUR 
CHELL,  who  laughingly  reassures  her.  General  re 
joicing  follows.'] 

SCENE  II — EPILOGUE. — A  curtain  is  lowered  in  front  of 
the  group,  shutting  out  the  prison  scene,  and  showing 
the  exterior  of  the  VICAR'S  cottage,  in  a  wintry  scene. 
The  sounds  of  pipe  and  labour  are  heard  approaching 
from  one  side,  mingled  with  voices  of  VILLAGERS  sing 
ing  a  Christmas  carol.  Enter  VILLAGERS,  headed  by 


142  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

ME.  FLAMBOROUGH,  Jiis  family,  and  FARMER  WIL 
LIAMS,  and  at  the  same  time  from  the  opposite  side 
enter  the  group  from  the  prison,  appropriately  cou 
pled,  GEORGE  now  being  free  of  shackles.  As  the 
two  parties  meet  the  VILLAGERS  set  up  a  shout  of 
rejoicing  and  welcome.] 

MR.  FLAMBOROUGH. 
[Meeting  the  VICAR,  with  outstretched  hand.]     Dear 

Vicar • 

VICAR. 
Friend! — Good  neighbours  all! 

VILLAGERS. 
0  welcome !    Welcome !    Welcome  home ! 

VICAR. 
[His  hand  lifted,  as  if  in  blessing.] 

The  God  who  heeds  a  sparrow's  fall, 
Hath  brought  me  safely  back! 

MR.  BURCHELL. 
[Cheerily,  to  MRS.  PRIMROSE.] 
Come,  come ! 

A  glass  of  gooseberry,  good  dame, 
To  toast  all  maids  who'd  change  their  name ! 

[There  is  general  laughter.  MRS.  PRIMROSE  goes  to 
one  side,  as  if  to  enter  the  cottage  from  the  back, 
and  reappears  with  a  tray  of  wine  which  she  passes 
around.  Meanwhile  the  couples  range  themselves, 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  143 

MOSES  between  Miss  MOLLIE  FLAMBOROUGH  and 
JENKINSON  ;  FARMER  WILLIAMS  ~by  Miss  FLAM- 
BOROUGH;  ARABELLA  between  DR.  WILMOT  and 
GEORGE;  OLIVIA  with  SQUIRE;  SOPHIA  with  MR. 
BURCHELL;  the  two  children  clinging  to  MRS. 
PRIMROSE'S  skirts.] 

ARABELLA. 
Dear  sisters,  if  'tis  George  you  love, 

Though  cruel  sire  would  give  you  Ned    

DR.  WILMOT. 
[Protesting.']     Now,  daughter! 

ARABELLA. 
Hush,  sir! 

DR.  WILMOT. 
[Protesting.]     dods  above! 

ARABELLA. 

[Puts  her  hand  over  his  mouth,  and  continues.]     Just 
cling  to  George,  or  die  unwed ! 

GEORGE. 
[Drinking  to  ARABELLA.] 

Oh,  yet  I'll  conquer  fortune,  fame, 
Sweet,  in  your  name 

DR.  WILMOT. 
[Making  himself  heard.]     Or  change  of  name ! 


144  THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD 

OLIVIA. 

[Accompanying  herself  on  a  guitar,  pensively.'] 
When  lovely  woman  stoops  to  folly, 
And  finds  too  late  that  men  betray, 
What  charm  can  soothe  her  melancholy; 

What  art  can 

[Voice  quavers  with  emotion] 

SQUIKE. 
[Tenderly  interrupting. ,] 

Dear  Olivia,  stay ! 
I  promise  you,  reformed,  a  rake 
A  faithful,  loving  spouse  will  make! 
[He  drinks  to  OLIVIA.] 

MOSES. 
[To   the  audience.']     When   at  a   fair   a  horse  you'd 

sell 

JENKINS  ON. 
[Interrupts,  addressing  MOSES.] 

Don't  wear  a  coat  of  gosling  green ! 
Keep  eyes  alert,  and  wits  as  well ! 

MOSES. 

[To  the  audience,  taxing  JENKINSON.]     Beware  of  men 
of  holy  mien! 

[Laughter  at  the  expense  of  JENKINSON.] 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
[Rather  tartly  to  MOSES.] 

However  wide  your  learning's  range, 
Don't 


THE    VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD  145 

[All  the  characters  finish  the  sentence.'] 

Don't  take  green  spectacles  in  change ! 
[ALL  laugh,  pledging  MOSES.    Miss  MOLLIE  FLAM- 
BOROUGH  hands  him  a  pair  of  green  spectacles  which 
he  puts  on.'] 

SOPHIA. 
[Addressing  the  audience. ~\ 

To  merit,  though  in  lowly  guise, 
0  never  your  affection  grudge ! 

MRS.  PRIMROSE. 
[Handing  MR.  BURCHELL  wine.'} 

Sir  William,  how  you  must  despise 
My  pride  of  heart;  my  insults! 

MR.  BURCHELL. 
[Kindly.'}     Fudge ! 

[General  laughter.    All  pledge  MR.  BURCHELL  and 
SOPHIA.] 

DICK  AND  BILL. 
[To  MR.  BURCHELL,  one  on  each  sideJ} 

When  to  our  sister  you  are  wed 

Will  you  still  bring  us 

[MR.  BURCHELL  nods  yes;  they  feel  in  his  pockets, 

and  exclaim,  drawing  out  calces  of  gingerbread.'} 
Gingerbread ! 

MR.  BURCHELL. 

[Toasting  VILLAGERS  and  AUDIENCE.] 
Come!     Here's  to  all  the  lads  and  lasses! 
[General  murmur  of  pleasure.] 


146  THE    VICAR    OF    WAKEFIELD 

ME.  FLAMBOROUGH. 

[Raising  glass,  pledges.]     Shakespeare  and  the  Musical 
Glasses ! 

[There  is  a  general  laugh,  in  which  the  PRIMROSES 
join.] 

VICAR. 
[Toasting.]     Virtue,  content,  a  loving  wife 

DR.  WILMOT. 
[Interrupting]     One  at  a  time,  sir! 

VICAR. 

[Shakes  head  in  mild  contradiction.']     One  for  life! 
[General    exclamation    of    pleasure    and    rejoicing. 
Pipe,  tab  our  sound] 

[CURTAIN.] 
[END  OF  PLAY.] 


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